


Hollywood Tonight

by MestariYN



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Showbusiness, Angst, Comedy, Drama, Fame, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Build, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:10:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 79,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6044416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MestariYN/pseuds/MestariYN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru works for some reason as a "Diamond Dancer" - basically a stripper - in the famous club "Purple Rain".</p><p>(I terribly suck at summaries, so please apologize. I might change it later a bit once we have more chapters out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Diamond Dancers

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what to say about this chapter because I fear I'd spoil something...  
> Relationships will be added later.

_It all looked so good…_

  
Drip. Drop.  
Drip. Drop.

  
The sparkling city appears haunted in the rain. Rain that has fallen for countless days now. Rain that turns streets into small rivers. Rain that washes away all the footprints and sadness of the day.

A newspaper is scarcely afloat, carried by the small waves and the passing by boats. A handsome man’s face is illustrated at the front cover while the title reads: _Be a star – be the star you are_. He has brown eyes, brown and full of charm, while his teeth are as dashing as the sun.

And said night grows old; the moon rises higher.

Nothing breaks the silence – except for the pouring rain.

A lonely person sits in his room, the light of the moon being his only company. It falls on a golden, shimmering statue that stands there, concealing an incorruptible dream. A dream many dream of, a dream many long for.

And yet the statue is cold as ice, heavy like a rock, hollow like a bottle and empty like a house.

He sighs, folds his hands but makes no further movements. He remains there, ceaselessly dwelling in darkness, doubts and memories. And he lingers on for hours while thinking of times when the golden statue was not there where it stands now. Thinking of times when gold did not matter – nor valued something.

And he remembers.

He remembers everything. He remembers when a single smile was worth more than any gold on earth; when a dream wanted to be dreamed - and lived. He remembers the beauty of a fair spring morning still clinging to the chill of winter. And his dreams had bloomed and grown just like the flowers did.

He remembers the tone of his voice. It sounded just like music did – _so bewitching, so enticing, so pleasing, so admirable_. A tone dwelled in there whenever he had spoken; a tone of hope, passion and love. A tone that made everyone believe to see light at the end of a bleak road, a dark tunnel, a lonely night.

He remembers flashlights and dead leaves being blown away by the wind. News have been filled with lies. Lies that had only been created for the foul purpose of dramatizing the story. The media believed it would not sell otherwise. They believed to be in position to tell the story how it actually happened. They believed to know the face behind the shimmer and the light.

The clock strikes heavy while the man turns his head gradually to the windows, eyes wandering beyond the glass and peering into the night. A night that is so like the night years ago.

On February 14th…  


_…but only good from afar_

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_ 7 years earlier _

 

 _Hey… you’re so quiet? Where are you?  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:01 p.m.}_

 _Awwww… cute! Do you miss me?  
_ _{February 6th, 20..; 09:03 p.m.}_

_Shut up! It’s just been quiet all day long.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:04 p.m.}_

 _Mean, so mean! You surely miss me. Who wouldn’t, tbh?! (*_ _ﾟ▽ﾟ_ _*)  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:04 p.m.}_

 _Shut up! Are you… working?  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:05 p.m.}_

 _Yes.  
_ _February 6 th, 20..; 09:05 p.m.}_

 _Hm.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:05 p.m.}_

 _I know you don’t like it.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:08 p.m.}_

 _Does it surprise you?  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:09 p.m.}_

 _No.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:11 p.m.}_

 _Good.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:11 p.m.}_

 _But I won’t do it for much longer. I got almost all the money together I need. And then I’m out.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:13 p.m.}_

 _Hmm.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:16 p.m.}_

 _What?  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:16 p.m.}_

 _You better get the fuck out there soon.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:20 p.m.}_

 _Yes, I know. You’re such a cutie when you’re worried, y’know?  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:21 p.m.}_

 _Fuck you. I’m not worried. I just don’t like it when people in the street talk about you!  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:23 p.m.}_

 _Ou, what did they say??  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:23 p.m.}_

 _That there’s a hot dancer everybody wants to fuck. And the gorilla guy even said he wants to fuck you against the walls and stuff.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:26 p.m.}_

 _Hey, I’m just a dancer. I don’t do this or other shit. Mean.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:28 p.m.}_

 _Hey, hello? to Iwa-chan?  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:37 p.m.}_

 _Houston,_ _we have a problem!  
__{February 6 th, 20..; 09:46 p.m.}_

 _C’mon, answer me. You know I’m not a slut.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:51 p.m.}_

 _You better make sure you won’t be one, Trashykawa.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:52 p.m.}_

 _Mean, Iwa-chan. M-E-A-N! `o’_  
_anyways, I gotta go, they called me. Talk to you later.  
__{February 6_ th, 20..; 09:54 p.m.}

 _Hm.  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:55 p.m.}_

 _Bye bye :p  
_ _{February 6 th, 20..; 09:57 p.m.}_

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

 _Purple Rain – PR’s -,_ named after the famous song sung by Prince, is a club that even from the outside seems a bit more extravagant, yet outlandish as anyone could have guessed. A prestige gentleman club that somehow holds a slight sinister atmosphere. A _gay_ gentleman club, famous for its exotic dancers.

The club is filled with the chatter of hundreds of friends, lovers and ex-lovers as well as the seducing music and the flashing reddish neon light. Only a single step inside, and people are automatically drawn into the web.

“Ok boys, it’s Friday.” says Ukai, the owner of the club, walking around the dressing room. “Make daddy proud.”

And the boys, Ukai’s “diamond dancers” nod wordlessly.

No one says something. Not a single word.

As if it is the most normal thing to do. Like selling cars. But instead of cars, they boys sell their bodies to a mostly drunken crowd.

Ukai stops all of a sudden. “You’re new, right?”

“Yes?” says the young boy, rather shy.

Ukai touches the boy’s chin lightly, lifts it while his eyes check the boy’s face, cheekbones and jawline. “You do need a little make up.” Ukai says curtly and rises his voice. “ _Oikawa!_ ”

“Oikawa is still in the wardrobe.” Is the answer.

“Jesus.” Ukai hisses. “Anyway, you stay here and wait until Oikawa’s back. He’ll be your teacher.”

“Ok.” Says the boy swiftly.

Ukai turns away as he hesitates: “Remember: you are a “diamond dancer”. Once you leave the safety shore of this room, you gotta make sure that you make your daddy proud.”

“Understood.” The boy says, nodding.

“Good.” Ukai leaves without another word.

The boy sits down and turns around, facing the mirror and looking down at all the… he does not even know the words for all this stuff. He grabs something that looks like a paintbrush, but smaller. Wrapped in thoughts, he feels suddenly the presence of someone right behind him.

The boy puts down the thing that looks like a paintbrush and turns around.

Standing before him is a dazzling person. As he gets a closer look, he is taken back by his mere presence. He stands confidently with a strong build that can be seen even from the outline it makes on his loose white, button-down shirt. Nicely contoured muscles are something that accented his body perfectly from every angle. The strength which emanated from him is impressive and intimidating. This man with such an aura already makes the boy’s young heart begin to thump. His flawlessly formed light brown hair stands brightly in the presence of the bright light that also creates a glow around him which makes him seem heavenly in a sense. In strange sense, considering the circumstance again.

Purple rain.

 _A gay gentleman club_.

That is definitely far from heaven.

The boy gulps as he then sees his slender neck come to turn before his head turns as well to face the speechless boy sitting in front of him. He has a strong and sharp jawline that is then perfected with a simple but confident smile. His dark brown eyes are staring back into the boy’s. His smile widens a bit as two of his fingers flashes up in an instant reaction in a peace sign formation while he is still smiling brilliantly at the boy. An action which only makes his appearance even more heart racing.

“Hi you, sweetboy.” Oikawa Tooru says, unnaturally friendly because most dancers are not this friendly. “I was told there’s someone who needs help. So that must certainly be you.”

“Y-yes.” The boy answers, his voice all airy and high.

Oikawa extends his hand. “Well, sweetboy, would you kindly tell me your name first?”

“K-Kunimi Ak-kira.” Kunimi stutters.

„Ou, don’t be nervous.“ Oikawa laughs lightly. “It’ll be all fine.” He takes a seat right next to the overwhelmed young man. “Ok, first off; have you ever painted something?”

“Like?” Kunimi asks irritated.

“Flowers?” Oikawa shrugs. “Animals, people,… no?”

“No.” the other male answers and adds: “I’m not a good painter.”

“Pity.”

“Why?”

“You have beautiful hands.” Oikawa hums and grabs the thing that still looks like a goddamn paintbrush to Kunimi and says: “Here comes the first lesson, Aki-chan. When you’re putting on your make-up, it’s like you’re an artist, _a painter,_ so to speak. But instead of painting something onto a blank page, you’re painting on a face. Simple as that.”

“Is that simple?” Kunimi wonders.

“Isn’t it?” Oikawa giggles and begins his work. And he does it splendid – of course he does, it is Oikawa Tooru after all. He seems to follow his own advice. He is an artist. He knows he is. He knows he is talented.

And he knows where he belongs…

But for the moment, he “paints” a face.

After about fifteen minutes, he pushes back his chair a little and looks at the younger male. “Wonderful. You look good, sweetboy.”

Kunimi turns towards the mirror and his mouth falls open. “How…?”

“That’s one of my talents.” Oikawa replies nonchalantly, as he lessens the space between them again. “Costume check.” He blinks and raises, pulling Kunimi along.

Oikawa eyes shoot up and down. “Hmmm…” Unanticipatedly, he extends his hand and touches Kunimi’s genital area. Oikawa feels the other male’s breath hitching. “Look, you gotta always make sure that the crowd sees your best piece in a nice way presented. You won’t bring in much money otherwise.”

Kunimi nods.

“That’s business.” Oikawa says matter-of-factly. “You better get used to it.”

“Ok.” Is the answer.

“Ok, now: Time for some fun.”

Together they leave the room and follow a corridor. The music and the chatter becomes louder and Oikawa feels that the other male’s nervousness has risen to a level he seems to melt like ice.

Oikawa stops and takes Kunimi aside. “Are you nervous?”

“A bit.”

“A bit?” Oikawa sings.

“Ok… I’m so nervous I feel like lava…”

“Interesting comparison.” Oikawa’s eyebrows shoot up. “Look, stick to Josh. He’ll help you… ok, just make sure that you don’t offer up too much to him. Otherwise you’ll be laying faster beneath him than you can sing the entire alphabet.”

Kunimi’s eyes widens. “Ok.”

“Anything else?”

“What do I have to do?” Kunimi says, helplessly. “I mean… outside.”

“No one can tell you what you have to do.” Oikawa replies. “Once you go outside, it’s all up to you. You’re gonna make them believe that you belong on that stage. You’re gonna make them believe that the night is yours and no one can take it from you. We’re not sluts. We’re artists, just slightly different ones. “

The music changes – a silent signal for Oikawa to prepare himself.

“Ok, sweetboy.” He says playfully. “It’s your turn. Go outside and rule them.”

“And you?”

Oikawa laughs. “I’ll be watching you from the corner.”

“Don’t you have to dance?” Kunimi asks.

“Yes.” Oikawa lessens the space, his mouth just a few inches away from the other’s ear. “After you. Watch me and learn. I will do my best. Just for you.”

It sends obvious chills up and down Kunimi’s spine, as Oikawa gives him a little push. “Good luck, sweetboy.”

 _Tell tell me baby are you wet (wet, wet, wet, wet, wet)  
_ _I just wanna get you wet wet (wet, wet, wet, wet, wet)_

“I better be ready for my turn.” Oikawa whispers, turning away from the light. “Be a star. Be the star you are.” He mumbles as he puts on a small black mask.

“Good evening Gentlemen.” Ukai says into the speaker after Kunimi’s performance. “And good evening to the few ladies I can see. Always nice to have you here, ladies.”

Cheering.

“Although it’s called gentlemen club.”

More cheering.

“Anyway.” Ukai laughs shortly. “I know you’ve been waiting. We didn’t mean to tease though. We simply wanted to prepare you for our next act. So please welcome our precious and favourite _Gabriel Chase!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hollywood Tonight Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcEEhVenRiQ&list=PLT9iC9HPhr7JtTPjuSVaxDnimImSne6Y-


	2. Gabriel Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They want more.
> 
> They want Gabriel Chase. 
> 
> They want to caress every inch of his dazzling presence and body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy and feel free to offer any kind of critique. I won't bite, I promise :p

Oikawa Tooru is not just a dancer. He is the pure embodiment of dancing.

He is the heaviest, the shiniest and the most precious diamond in Ukai’s possession and as he gracefully walks onto center stage – as _Gabriel Chase_ -, Oikawa could feel all the glances consuming his mere skin with their eyes. He could see men licking their lips, eyes widening in pure lust and desire.

And he knows what he has to do. He throws his head slightly to the side, offering up a better view of his neck and chest, sending some lascivious glares here and there. They begin to sweat before he has even started performing.

_Be a star. Be the star you are._

He leans almost casually against the pole, one hand grabbing the iron, the other resting on his chest.

Nasty naughty boy by Christina Aguilera starts playing as Oikawa slides his hand under his shirt, closing his eyes in pure satisfaction whereas the crowd screams flustered.

Within less than a second, the crowd is then fully aroused as Oikawa swings himself up, using his toned thighs to support him, before slowly sliding down again. He flashes a seductive smirk in every direction before his hand reach out to grab the pole and pull himself up, his chest touching the iron gently.

The club is steaming hot. The guests are fascinated by _Gabriel Chase’s_ sensual movements, his seductive smirk, and his rolling hips. And as he slowly dips down and opens one of the buttons, everyone catches their breath instantly and leans forward, while cheering on the seducing diamond dancer.

They want _more_.

They want Gabriel Chase.

They want to caress every inch of his dazzling presence and body.

And Oikawa can see this. He can feel it and so he leaves the pole, kneels down and crawls towards the crowd; lascivious and all hot, yet smooth and elegant like a cat.

_Voulez vous coucher avec moi?_

He chooses a rather young man, quite handsome – though not as handsome as he is. He grips said man’s tie and pulls him closer, while the fingers of his left hand runs along his arms, beginning from his fingertips up to his biceps, before teasing his neck. Oikawa then pulls the man even closer and his legs encircle the man in a hot embrace, his hips rolling delicately.

“Don’t you want to touch me?” Oikawa says charmingly.

The man gulps and touches with both hands Oikawa’s bare chest.

“Good.” He hums. “Open the last button.”

The other male’s hand run slowly down his skin and opening the button as he was told to, making the other guests jealous. Then man brings his wallet out and shoves ¥ 4000 down his skin tight shorts.

Oikawa hums delightful. “Thanks, honey.” He blinks and leaves.

And while he lessens the space between himself and another _victim_ , he drops his shirt almost _accidentally_. The crowd goes wild, lean forward and trying to touch his bare skin.

 _“Now give me a little spanking.”_ he sings along Christina’s line and spins around, offering his sexy butt to crowd that looks rather _imprisoned_ in those tight shorts. They spank it and waves it from side to side. Oikawa can see how horny and turned on everyone is, while accepting more money.

As Oikawa turns around to face to crowd again, he notices then a tall young man. And though he has only a short glimpse at said man, Oikawa recognises his dark olive-brown hair as well as his dark olive eyes. And those eyes are not just caressing his skin; they are undressing him, devouring every bit of his hot flesh in his own fantasy.

“Didn’t Iwa-chan mention a gorilla guy?” Oikawa thinks as he goes back to the pole, swings himself up one last time and leaning back as far as he possibly could, only supported by his thighs this time, before the song ends.

The noise hits an impossible peak as Oikawa leaves the stage.

“Gabriel Chase, gentlemen.” Ukai speaks into the speaker again. “And our next…”

Oikawa enters the corridor, as someone speaks to him.

“You were amazing.”

Oikawa lifts his heads and recognizes Kunimi standing in front of him, slightly blushing. Two of Oikawa’s fingers flash instantly up, while sticking out his tongue playfully and smiling towards Kunimi with one eye closed. “Of course I was. But you weren’t bad either, sweetboy. How much did you make?”

“Not so much.” Kunimi replies.

“That’s not the correct answer.” Oikawa hums.

“I think less than 20’000 yen.”

“Pretty good for a newbie.” Oikawa says and continues to walk down the corridor while Kunimi follows. “Did you present your _best friend_ in a nice way?”

“I tried my best.” Kunimi mumbles embarrassed.

“Goodie.” Oikawa says cheerfully as he enters the dressing room. “Just make sure you show off that body you got.”

“Oikawa!” the familiar voice of Ukai wafts into the room like a strong wind. Oikawa shivers.

He turns and smiles. “Yes?”

“I got some work for you.” Ukai says, puffing his cigarette.

Oikawa rolls his eyes dramatically. “Why can’t we just take a single moment to celebrate me?”

“Even if we do that doesn’t change the fact that I have work for you to do.” Ukai responses, rather annoyed.

“Who’s it this time? Not a lonely single father again? Or a married man who cheats on his wife.” Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Although they pay well, I don’t want to-“

“Shut up, I don’t care what you want and what not.” Ukai replies angrily. “So keep that pretty hole on your face shut for a second and listen.”

“Tsk.” Oikawa crosses his arms, but remains quiet.

“And you.” Ukai turns for a moment Kunimi. “Back to work. I’m not paying you for standing on the spot like a damn sculpture.”

“S-Sorry.” Kunimi says and leaves.

“Ok, for your record. He is not married or a single father. He booked you for tomorrow night so-

But Oikawa does not let his boss talk.

“Hey, tomorrow’s my day off, _for your record_.”

“No, customer is king.” Ukai replies annoyed. “And he booked you.”

“Booked.” Oikawa hisses. “I’m not a device they can book whenever it pleases them.”

“It’s your job.”

Oikawa snorts. “Fuck it.” Turns, and leaves.

“Tomorrow night, Oikawa. 11:30 p.m., room two.”

“Whatever.”

“I take that as a yes.” Ukai leaves the room.

Oikawa sits down and takes out his phone. He opens the latest chat with Iwaizumi and starts to type out a message.  
  


_Sorry Iwa-chan :’( I have to work tomorrow night._  
_{February 6 th, 20..; 11:46 p.m.}_

  
He presses “send” and puts his phone down as he closes his eyes.

“At least I made a lot tonight.” He mumbles as his phone rings.  
  


_Ok._  
_{February 6 th, 20..; 11:47 p.m.}_

_  
Awesome. Cool. Thanks._ He thinks angrily. _Now even my best friend is pissed._

He puts the phone aside and stars at his own reflection in the mirror. “I’m so close now. Soon I’ll be out. I'll’be gone and… _Be the star. Be the star I am!”_

His phone rings again.

Email.

Whenever a customer booked a dancer for their private entertainment, each “diamond dancer” receives an email that holds information such as name, time, room number, preferences and stuff like that. And some men have really odd preferences. Oikawa remembers a man, maybe thirty five, asking him to wear farmer’s clothes. Or another one insisted that Oikawa licked his fingers – over and over _and over_ again. But just his fingers.

Strange customers, strange place, strange rules, strange world.

Easy.

Oikawa opens the email totally unmotivated and disinterested as he reads:

____________________________________________________________________________________

To: [fabulousTooru@g--L.com](mailto:fabulousTooru@g--L.com)

Ref: _Private Booking_

Date: _February 7 th, 20..; _11:30 p.m.

Room: 2

_Name: Ushijima Wakatoshi_

Preference: Gabriel Chase.

Comments: Gabriel Chase.

___________________________________________________________________________________  
_

Oikawa snorts even louder.

No preferences, no comments…

Ou wait, no - Preference AND comment is his stage name. W-O-W.

Wonderful.

Great.

Excellent.

“Of course I don’t know my own name.” He yells. The other males in the dressing room send him a surprised glare but Oikawa does not care.

This Ushijima guy surely is odd. There is no possible way to prepare something. He is Gabriel Chase. So how could he – Gabriel Chase a.k.a. Oikawa Tooru – prepare something for this odd-yet-unmotivating Ushijima guy.

What is he - _Gabriel Chase a.k.a. Oikawa Tooru_ for heaven’s sake - supposed to wear for this odd-yet-unmotivating Ushijima guy who seems to lack the ability to write a proper sentence in Japanese? Or English? Hella even French would work. Or any other language living beings _sometimes_ speak – google would help him out anyways.

But NO… he simply asks for Gabriel Chase.

And since he is asking for Gabriel Chase, he should get Gabriel Chase. “ _What he sees is what he gets_.” He thinks and stares at his reflection yet again. “ _I’ll make him pay.”_

Oikawa still rolls his eyes in disbelief and pins the mail before turning his phone off.

And yet, as he stares at the black display of his cell phone, he feels less confident than usual. Something about this booking makes him shiver and most uncomfortable in his skin.

He has done many private shows and has been booked plenty of times. Each of his customers showed strange manners and preferences but never – not once – had a customer insisted on _Gabriel Chase_ like this _odd-yet-unmotivating Ushijima guy did._

Oikawa raises his head _._ _Is there a Chance…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel Chase may not sound like something Oikawa would come up with. And yet I believe - due to the meaning - it would kinda match his personality. 
> 
> Gabriel has Hebrew origins and means "To Strive Or Excel Or Rival".  
> Chase has English and Old French origins and means "huntsman".
> 
> Hollywood Tonight Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcEEhVenRiQ&list=PLT9iC9HPhr7JtTPjuSVaxDnimImSne6Y-


	3. Childhood friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stop lying.” Iwaizumi demands quietly. Too quietly. His eyes are sharp like knives. And whenever Iwaizumi holds this expression, Oikawa gives in most of the time and drops his mask.

“Hey, Shittykama? For how much longer will you block the bathroom?” A loud, angry voice wafts from beneath the door.

“Just come in, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa replies aloud.

“Are you naked?”

“Would it surprise you?” Oikawa sings playfully.

“Shut up, Trashykawa. Are you at least wearing your boxers?”

Oikawa walks over, opens the door and says. “Yes, I do. Just come in. It wouldn’t be the first time you see a beauty entirely exposed anyways.”

“And who would said beauty be?” Iwaizumi snorts pissed and enters the room, pushing Oikawa aside.

“Mean, Iwa-chan. You’re being so mean.” He exclaims and returns to the mirror as he glimpses shortly at his friend. He stands before the mirror, wearing a plain dark tank top. As his eyes glazes up to look at him briefly he could see a noticeable difference in him. Oikawa’s eyes drifts towards his arms and there it is; he has recently gained more muscle. “You’ve been working out, hu?”

“And?” His strong arms are extremely well toned, they flow and curve perfectly in shape. His veins slightly pop out without him even flexing. As Oikawa then takes his eyes off, he begins to imagine the things his strong arms could do to – _unfortunately… tragically…_ not to him. The way he has toned them even shows in his fingertips. They are rough and rigid which accents his appearance. Iwaizumi has his rippling muscles on a good display with his tank top.

“Nothing, nothing. Women and gay men will certainly like it.” Oikawa blinks, and sticks out his tongue teasingly.

“Hah?” Iwaizumi send him a death glare.

“Sorry sorry, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says swiftly and looks again at the mirror as he begins to hum joyfully after a while, whereas Iwaizumi starts to shave.

They’ve been living together for a year now and Oikawa likes to have his best friend around him – since he’s aware it would not be like this forever. Not, if he succeeds.

After he is genuinely pleased with the way he looks – especially his brown hair that must have been a gift by an angel that seems to love him deeply and _ou god_ look at his perfect skin – he blinks at his own reflection, earning an annoyed glare from his neighbor.

“Iwa-chan,” he says cheerfully, “what do you see if we look together at the mirror, hm? I see a strong, confident, beautiful young man - and you. You’re here, too. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Very amazing.” Iwaizumi spells out each syllable separable, full of annoyance.

“Right?” Oikawa says and leaves the room. “What would you like for dinner? Are you going out by the way?”

“Yes.” The other says curtly.

“Nice. Do I know them, too?”

“I hope not.”

Oikawa pretends to have overheard the other’s last comment and says: “Anyway, what do you want for dinner?”

About half an hour later, they sit together at the table, having a delicious pasta.

A very delicious pasta.

An undeniable delicious pasta Iwaizumi Hajime has cooked.

Not Oikawa Tooru.

Because Oikawa _was_ …

… _is_...

… and _will always be_ a terrible cook.

Oikawa actually burnt down his mother’s kitchen once.

On mother’s day.

When he tried to surprise her with a hearty four course meal.

Oikawa surprised her with a burnt kitchen instead.

And since Iwaizumi is not very fond of surprises – like burning kitchens – he decided to cook their dinner.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says over his pasta. “I’ll be jealous once you have a girlfriend.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not me then who eats your delicious meals.” Oikawa says, smiling.

A short smile flushes over the other male’s face.

Oikawa checks the time - _07:47 p.m. -_ and shivers slightly as his pinned notes pops up; _Ref_ : _Private Booking._

Of course Iwaizumi cannot but to see his reaction. His face turns all serious and he folds his hands. And yet, he remains quiet, only watching Oikawa putting his phone aside.

Oikawa smiles; his smile, however, is far from his usual cheeky one.

“You can’t hide it.” Iwaizumi says matter-of-factly. “What is this time?”

“Nothing, just a strange message from … “

“Yes?”

“..from a friend of mine.” Oikawa replies briefly.

“A friend of yours.” Iwaizumi repeats slowly, his eyes slightly narrowing. “Who, may I ask?”

 _Shit!_ Oikawa thinks. _I can’t say Hanamaki or Matsukawa, because they rarely text. And Hajime will hang out with both of them later, hell I was supposed to hang out with them, too. God… I can’t name Yahaba either since he’s studying in the states. Better I say one of the dancers of PR’s._

“Ah, just a –“

“Stop lying.” Iwaizumi demands quietly. Too quietly. His eyes are sharp like knives. And whenever Iwaizumi holds this expression, Oikawa gives in most of the time and drops his mask.

“It’s a private booking.” Oikawa mumbles.

Iwaizumi eyebrows instantly raise. “You’ve had lots of them lately, haven’t you?”

Oikawa simply nods. He hates when he is forced to talk about his _work_ with his best friend.

“What’s the matter?”

Oikawa opens the phone and the email and hands it over so that Iwaizumi could read it himself.

Silence.

It is so quiet, Oikawa could hear a pin drop.

But then, finally, the other male clears his throat and says: “It looks like there’s someone who really wants you to be his private show.” He puts the cell phone down.

“Apparently.” Oikawa says.

Iwaizumi sighs and pushes his chair back. He takes the empty plates and walk into the kitchen. “You can refuse it, you know.”

Oikawa shakes his head, coughs and finds himself in his usual confident manner. “No, it’ll be alright. Hey, there’s someone out there who admires me for my look.”

“If this is what you think.” Iwaizumi says.

“Sure.” Oikawa says, stands up and brings the few remaining plates into the kitchen. “Don’t be jealous Iwa-chan. It’s cute, though.” He sticks out his tongue.

“Shut up.” Iwaizumi says in his usual tone.

“It’s even cuter when you’re worried about me.” Oikawa sings teasingly, before he runs out the kitchen or Iwaizumi would have stabbed him otherwise.

Oikawa cleans the table, but as he returns to the kitchen, Iwaizumi speak up again: “I just don’t like the fact that you’re a stripper.”

“Yes, you’re correct: a stripper.” Oikawa replies airily. “But just because I’m a stripper doesn’t automatically mean I’m a slut. You know I’m not like this, Iwa-chan.”

“I know you say this yet I still have immense troubles to actually believe that.”

“Believe what you want.” Oikawa shrugs before he grins playfully. “And must I kindly remind you that you said that if you were ever going to do same sex experimentation, it was going to be with me anyways.”

 _“_ I’ve never said that to you, especially not to you.” Iwaizumi growls, filling the dish washer

“It's been implied.” He chuckles.

“By you.” Iwaizumi says curtly.

“If that is what you believe.” Oikawa adds, smiling and waving his hand in a flashy manner.

“Hey, that facial expression and pose piss me off, so stop it.”

“So rude!” Oikawa whines. “You’re being so rude.”

Iwaizumi stops and shakes his head incredulously: “I believe I am a fairly good person. I really do believe so. I have done nothing wrong. And yet, what have I done to deserve Oikawa Tooru? WHAT?”

“Well,” Oikawa pouts. “I am smart enough to know I have just been insulted, and sexy enough not to care.”

“See, that’s what I mean.” Iwaizumi says and leaves the kitchen.

Oikawa could hear the echo of Iwaizumi’s room door being opened and closed. Oikawa remains in the kitchen for the space of a few breath as he enters the dining room again, grabbing his phone and staring at the pinned note. _At least Hajime doesn’t worry anymore._ He thinks. _It’ll be fine. This job is just like the other’s I’ve done. I’m only dancing, that’s it. And the money I earn brings me closer to my dream. I don’t have to do this for much longer._

He goes straight to his own room, gets his coat and other stuff and turns off the light. He hesitates as he arrives at the front door, looking back over this shoulder to the door that parts him from his childhood friend.

Sometimes, _occasionally_ , it is hard to pretend that everything is fine. It is hard to lie to people one cares about most. But Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi, though not obviously showing, worries about him. About him being a stripper even though Oikawa claims to be a dancer. And yet, all he ever wanted is to climb. To climb higher and reaching out for the stars. That is why he is working as a dancer.

“I can only climb if I climb on my own.” He mumbles absentmindedly, still looking at the door.

_Once I have the money and start to climb higher, I’ll leave him as well._

Silently, he slips off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hollywood Tonight Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcEEhVenRiQ&list=PLT9iC9HPhr7JtTPjuSVaxDnimImSne6Y-


	4. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa sees the man taking his dirty Vegas with one movement which shows his quick reflexes. The drink bobs down into his throat as his protruding Adams apple moves once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to offer any kind of critique.

Oikawa arrives rather annoyed at _Purple Rain_ and sneaks in through the back door like a thief at night. The first he encounters is Kunimi, who sits in front of his mirror, trying to put on some make up as he recognizes Oikawa in the reflection of the glass.

“Tooru.” He turns happily. “I’m so glad you’re here. Do you mind helping me out?”

Oikawa blinks and sticks out his tongue. “Of course, sweetboy. You can thoroughly rely on me. Let me just get off my coat.”

Kunimi’s eyes widens as Oikawa reveals his clothes he is wearing. He barely wears something actually. A loose shirt, extremely short pants that flatter his toned thighs and some accessories.

“Aren’t you cold?” Kunimi says shocked.

“No, I’m hot enough to warm myself up.” He blinks as he sits down, taking one of the paintbrushes. “Are you ready for the show tonight, sweetboy?”

“I think I am.” Kunimi replies, closing his eyes. “Hm… Tooru, may I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” Oikawa hums, gently painting Kunimi left eyes.

“Does anyone know what kind of work you do?”

Oikawa hesitates for a moment before he answers in a flashy manner: “Yes, my best friend knows. That’s it.”

“And your family?”

“We’re not keeping in touch.”

“Ou. I’m sorry.” Kunimi says briefly.

“How about you?” Oikawa asks, taking care now of the other male’s right eye.

“No, no one. I actually don’t want anyone to know.”

“Then you better keep your pretty mouth shut.” Oikawa says cheeky and giggles.

After fifteen minutes, he sends Kunimi into the dressing room. “Tell Josh, I said you should wear some fancy stuff tonight.”

Before he locks up his stuff, he checks the time: _09:41 p.m._ Less than two hours to go. “Well, I better go and relax a bit.” He mumbles, checking his hair in the mirror one last time before he leaves.

 _Purple rain_ is packed on this Saturday night, filled with the chatter and the buzzing music. Two dancers are the spotlight, doing a double – or pair dance, as Oikawa likes to call it. He heads towards the bar, sits down and sighs.

“Hey, Watari.” He yells over the music. “I’ll get a dirty vegas.”

Watari nods as a deep voice next to him says: “I’ll get the same.”

Oikawa turns his head to face his company as his eyes interlock with dark olive coloured eyes. As their eyes interlocked Oikawa continues to look back at him but it is difficult. The young man holds a strong presence which is intimidating. As he remembers his deep voice it also comes to his mind that it matches with his body. His build is strong and masculine with a rigid face to match. He has a jacket on currently yet one could see that he has a masculine build.

Watari brings the ordered drinks and puts them in front of them. Oikawa sees the man taking his dirty Vegas with one movement which shows his quick reflexes. The drink bobs down into his throat as his protruding Adams apple moves once.

This is a person Oikawa silently hopes he would never come into a fight with. His olive eyes alone seems to ward anyone off yet he sits there next to him. And though he looks kind of nice- not as nice as Oikawa does of course - he has something that pissed him off.

“And you are sitting next to me because..?” Oikawa says roughly, turning towards his own drink.

“Because this seat was empty.” The man replies.

“But I didn’t invite you to sit down.” Oikawa nips at his drink.

“We don’t always need an invitation.” The man responses quickly.

Ok. This man does not just piss him off – Oikawa cannot stand him at all.

“You are Gabriel Chase.” The man says slowly.

Oikawa shivers.

But why?

The man pisses him of, sure. But that is no reason why this would cause a cold shiver. In all honesty, Oikawa does not like the way this _gorilla_ pronounced his name.

But of course. He has seen this guy already.

Yesterday.

During his performance.

Those olive coloured eyes betray him.

Oikawa empties his glass and says. “Another one.”

“Same.” The man grunts.

“We’re not competing against each other.” Oikawa hisses annoyed.

“No, we’re not.” The man agrees.

Oikawa rolls his eyes. _Ok, calm down Tooru. He knows who you are. It’s just another annoying fan of Gabriel Chase. Take the drink and leave._

“You’re quite famous, _Gabriel Chase.”_ The man says.

_Why does he have to say my stage name?_

“Does it surprise you?” Oikawa growls, tapping his fingers onto the counter.

“No, not in the least. Everyone admires you. Inside,” the man explains, “and outside of the club.”

Oikawa faces the man again. “What do you want?” He asks suspiciously.

“Just another drink.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want.” The man shrugs.

The drinks turn up and Oikawa grabs his. “If you excuse me…”

“Is that the way you treat your guest?” The man raises his deep voice lightly.

Oikawa hesitates and then turns, smiling. “Then would you kindly tell me how you want to be treated?”

“Have a drink with me.”

“That’s it?” Oikawa says irritated.

“That’s it.”

Oikawa sighs and sits down. “If that is your wish.”

Oikawa remains seated next to _gorilla_ man for the next hour, having one drink after another. The man seems to be fairly good at dealing with this huge amount of alcohol they have been drinking the past hour.

But Oikawa is beyond _a little tipsy_ , beyond _being in a good mood._

He is drunken, full like a gasoline station. And still, he somehow manages to speak in a stable tone, although his head is all fuzzy and his sight blurry.

“You know what?” He slurs, facing _gorilla_ man. “I don’t really like you. I really don’t.”

“I understand.” The other says.

“Do you reeeeeally?” Oikawa narrows his eyes.

“It’s your opinion.”

“Excuse me.” Watari leans forward. “Hey, you better go and prepare yourself. It’s past 11:20.”

“Ou yes, I’m gonna go dancing like ballet dancer.” Oikawa howls happily. “Thanks Watari. You’re a good man, Watari. I love you. If you ever fall for me I promise I will marry you.”

“That’s fine, just go.”

“Yes, yes.” Oikawa stands up. “Woah.” He exclaims. “Was the ground always this far away?”

“Do you need help?” The man offers his hand.

“No no no no.” Oikawa shakes him off. “I’m a grown, sexy as hell and everybody admires me. I can do this on my own, y’know.”

“Ok.”

“Yes, _ok.”_ Oikawa turns and walks away, passing a young man with a terrible bedhead hair, who shortly glimpses at him. But Oikawa does not even notice the other male’s gaze.

“Room 2.” He mumbles as he arrives the back of the club. “Room 2… 2… tuut… hoot… hoothoot.” He giggles as he encounters Ukai in the corridor. “Ou boss, look at me. I’m an owl. Hoothoot!”

“You’re drunken.” Ukai yells. “Damn, you have a booking in less than five minutes. Get your fucking ass into the room.”

“Room hoothoot.” He giggles louder.

Ukai smacks his cheek roughly. “Room 2, you, now!”

Oikawa holds his right, throbbing cheek and sends Ukai a dark glare as he continues his journey to room number 2. But before he enters the room, he visits the washroom first.

Inside, he looks directly at the mirror and his own reflection. He blinks and his reflection blinks, too. He then sticks his tongue out in sassy way and two of his fingers flash up. “ _I’m too hot, hot damn.”_ He sings happily. “Well, Gabriel Chase, let’s have some fun.”

He drinks a bit of water, closes his eyes for a moment and takes in a few, deep breaths. Way calmer than a few minutes ago, he leaves the room, his mind a bit clearer and less fuzzy.

He checks the time.

11:29 p.m.

“I’m so good.” He mumbles as he opens the door and enters room 2.

He balks as he sees a tall man sitting on the couch, seemingly waiting for his show to start. He recognizes the guy. Of course he does.

He has seen him yesterday.

And he has just left him behind at the bar.

_Gorilla guy._

_Ushijima Wakatoshi_

One and the same person.

Oikawa mouth falls open.

 _This_ _odd-yet-unmotivating gorilla Ushijima guy_ just sits there and stares back at him. But his glance is different.

So different.

Different different.

Different is not even a good or close description of how _different_ it actually is. His glance is strong, just like his build. It devours every inch of bare skin Oikawa presents in his light cloth. The slender neck, the toned thigh, the sharp jawline.

Everything.

“Well, would you mind and close the door?” this odd-yet-unmotivating gorilla Ushijima guy says calmly.

Way to calm, for Oikawa’s liking. Like he was gardening and asks for some water for his flowers. This odd-yet-unmotivating gorilla Ushijima guy appears to be a good gardener though…

Oikawa does as he is told to: he closes the door.

“And now,” Ushijima says, clearly enjoying the moment. “Dance for me.”

Oikawa simply nods and walks to the music station, before he leans against the pole, facing Ushijima. Dance for you by Beyonce start playing and Oikawa softly touches his own neck.

 _You want me to dance._ He thinks, slowly sliding down the pole. _So I will._

His hands runs slowly over his chest, leaning forward and offering up a better view on this chest and bare skin. He turns, hand griping the pole. Although drunken and all fuzzy, Oikawa preforms this private show professionally.

He somehow actually enjoys watching Ushijima’s glance lingering on his body, and as he touches his skin sensually to the music, Ushijima can barely hide how much Oikawa is making the other feel uncomfortable in his lower region.

Oikawa bits his lower lip as he unbuttons his shirt, hands slowly wandering down to his pants. Gracefully he lessens the space between him and Ushijima as he sees a strange smile flushing over his face. Oikawa rolls his head from one side to the other, his hands running through his beautiful brown hair.

 _“Boy I like it when you watch me, ah”_ he sings, spreading his toned legs.

“Come closer.” Ushijima demands quietly.

And strangely, Oikawa does yet again what he is told. He lessens the space between them as he starts pressing his perfect ass against Ushijima. He could feel Ushijima’s hands on his back, slowly making its way up to his slender neck.

Oikawa could feel how hard his customer is, as Ushijima slowly turns him around, hands holing him in place so that he is almost unable to move. Their eyes interlock again. Though his mind refuses to believe as Oikawa finds himself kissing Ushijima.

The sober part of his mind shouts: no!

But it is too late.

_… there’s a hot dancer everybody wants to fuck…_

Within seconds he lays on the couch, right beneath Ushijima’s strong build, the other grinding wantonly.

His mind still shouts: _No. That goes too far._

But the amount of alcohol drowns all the no’s and another feeling takes hold of him. He does not react as Ushijima removes his cloth. He does not react as Ushijima lifts him up and literally throws him against the wall.

_…and the gorilla guy even said he wants to fuck you against the walls and stuff…_

“No.” Oikawa cries weakly, but Ushijima’s strong arms hold him still in place.

“You want it.” Ushijima whispers against the back of his neck. “You’re all turned on.”

Oikawa can hear the sound of unzipping pants. He then gives a short whimper of pain as feels the taller man slid in almost completely; he groans desperately.

“You feel so good.” Ushijima’s teeth sink into his shoulder, leaving its marks.

“Please.” Oikawa mewls, desperately breathing in air as Ushijima starts to pump his hips faster and faster; his strong nails digging into his heaving chest.

Oikawa could hear his mind screaming from afar: _no… no… no…!_ His body on the other hand speaks another language. It is totally aroused, enjoying each harsh thrust. His body betrays him and demands for more. But with each thrust his sight becomes more blurry. Due to the amount of alcohol he could barely register what is happening.

“Come for me.” Ushijima’s groans, sensually touching Oikawa’s cock and stroking him while rolling his hips wantonly. “Come for me. I wanna hear your voice.”

Loud moans escape his throat by all the stimulation.

“Damn, you’re hot.” Ushijima moans and grins him hard against the cold wall as his cock hits a particular sweet spot. As a result, Oikawa feels an enormous build-up as his whole body starts to shake, consumed by the overwhelming thrill: cum spreads out, right into Ushijima stroking hand and against the wall. A few repetitively loud moans escape his throat.

This sends the other over the edge: his orgasm shakes his whole body, deep moans sounding through the room.

Only a few breath later, Oikawa collapses with his cheek against the wall from the force of his orgasm and the buzz of the alcohol combined as the taller man loosens his grips. Oikawa falls and silds down the wall, barely registering anything.

“God, that was good.” Ushijima’s low voice wafts into his mind. “Thanks.”

Oikawa opens his mouth but no sound of word rolls over his tongue. _“Please… help me…”_

Then it all turns dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima... I don't know what I've done to you... BUT it's not the end ^-^
> 
> Hollywood Tonight Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcEEhVenRiQ&list=PLT9iC9HPhr7JtTPjuSVaxDnimImSne6Y-


	5. Pursuit of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You sacrificed so much. So, so much in order to achieve your dream. So much to be happy.”
> 
> “But I’m not there yet. I’m still a nobody.” Oikawa says slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always; feel free to offer any kind of critique.

_Not everything that shines will always be gold…_  


“Tooru?”

“Tooru?”

A strange voice wafts into his mind, lifting the mist slightly. Someone shakes him gently although Oikawa can tell that the person seems to be afraid of touching him.

Afraid to touch his bare skin.

_“Tooru!”_

“God…” The words roll heavy over his tongue.

“Tooru… what happened?”

“What?” Oikawa opens his eyes slowly. He shivers.

Kunimi leans over him. “Tooru. Are you alright?”

Oikawa slowly sits up. “No. My mind is all fuzzy and it’s really cold.”

“Tooru… what happened… I mean…”

“What?” he says, his sight still kind of blurry.

He feels a warm touch. Kunimi throws a blanket over his bare shoulders.

Bare. Shoulders.

Oikawa’s eyes widens. He is naked. Cold sweat and cum everywhere around him. Money sticks to his skin.

“Oh my…” He begins, as reality crashes the ground and huge waves roll over him. Ushijima’s scent lay still in the air, filling out the entire room. Oikawa’s head begins to throb painfully, his hands tremble.

“Tooru.” Kunimi says softly, his hands reaching out.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He panics. “Don’t.”

Kunimi blanches with fear.

Oikawa pants, as he crawls towards the couch.

“Tooru… can I help you? Should I get someone to help you?”

“Close the door.”

“What?”

“I said, close this fucking door!” He screams.

Kunimi backs up and goes, _runs_ , towards the door and shuts it. He then remains there, silently, watching the other male reaching the couch, still naked.

Oikawa’s hands tremble terribly.

“Where is it?” he mumbles, trying to calm himself down. “Where is it?”

“Tooru?”

“Where is my fucking coat!” He cries, his sight still blurry.

“It’s locked up in the wardrobe.” Kunimi replies.

“Go and get it.” Oikawa demands like a dictator.

Kunimi nods and leaves the room in a rush, closing the door behind him.

“Ok…” Oikawa mumbles again. “Calm down. Breathe slowly.”

His eyes begin to wander around nervously, always ending up at the wall. That particular spot he was fucked against. All the evidence are still there.

_“You feel so good.”_

Oikawa begins to shiver violently as he locks up his knees against his bare chest.

_“Come for me.”_

Ushijima voice still echoes in his head, causing his eyes to water.

_“God, that was good.”_

Oikawa feels the urge and eventually throws up right in front of him.  


∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

  
Kunimi returns only a minute later, his eyes filled with shock from the sight before him.

“Tooru.” He says, hurries over and kneels down. “Damn, get into the clothes. You must get out of here.”

Oikawa pants violently, does not even realize the tears on his cheeks, dropping off and falling to the ground.

Kunimi helps him carefully into his loose clothes before he puts on the coat. With shaky hands, Oikawa fishes his cell phone out of his pocket and let the device find Iwaizumi’s number. He presses the button and it start calling.

Kunimi watches him silently at first, as he mumbles: “I’ll clean the room.”

Oikawa sends him the best smile he could – and it still is far from his usual one.

_Please… please… pick up_. Oikawa moves slowly forth and back, trying to calm himself down.

Then, Iwaizumi grunts unfriendly into the speaker. “It’s 3:48 a.m.”

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says with a shaky voice.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi says, fully awake now.

“Iwa-chan.” His heart starts to pump faster again and he presses his hand to his mouth in order to muffle the sob that escapes his lips. Oikawa closes his eyes and hopes soundlessly that he is able to speak in a stable tone. “Iwa-chan… I need your help…”

“What’s wrong?” the other asks but Oikawa could hear that he sits up in his bed.

_“Please…”_ Oikawa says. He is not asking, not demanding, not commanding, not even begging. He is _pleading._

“Where are you?” Iwaizumi says calmly, literally jumping out of his bed.

“ _Purple Rain.”_

“Ok, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Iwaizumi says and the calls ends.

Oikawa lets his phone slid inside his pocket and watches Kunimi cleaning the room, washing away all the evidences as he collects the money and turns toward him.

“No.” Oikawa shakes his head. “I don’t want it.”

“What should I do then?”

“Keep it. You cleaned the room.” Oikawa says weakly.

“But-“

“No! I said keep the fucking money.” Oikawa erupts.

The room falls silent for the space of a few breath, as Oikawa speaks up again: “Sorry… I…” He stops, his head low.

“It’s ok.” Kunimi says softly. “Come, let’s get you out of here.”  


∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

  
Iwaizumi arrives about twenty minutes later. His car comes to an instant stop in the back of the club and Kunimi helps Iwaizumi to get Oikawa into the car.

“Good night, Tooru.” Klunimi says and closes the door.

“Thanks.” He hears Iwaizumi saying as he gets in the car as well.

Neither of them speaks a single word. Iwaizumi drives along the empty streets while Oikawa watches the neon lights flashing by. His head is still throbbing and he feels cold. And although his mind processes the moment when the car comes to a full stop and the engine dies, he does not move.

Iwaizumi gets off the car, coming to his side and opening the door. “Come.” He offers his strong arm and Oikawa accepts it gratefully.

By the time Iwaizumi closes the front door, Oikawa’s knees give away and only Iwaizumi’s enormous reaction speed and presence of mind he has been blessed with prevent him from any other damage. Tears overflow his cheeks and he sobs audibly into Iwaizumi’s arms. His soft voice makes gentle soothing sounds, and together they rock back and forth, moving with the motions of Oikawa’s sobs.

After a while, the heartbreaking sobs die down, giving way to silent, distressed tears. Neither of them is aware of how much time has passed as Oikawa finally felt steady enough to get back on his feet. Iwaizumi just moves with him, keeping an arm around his shoulders and guides him into his bedroom.

“I’ll get you something, just sit down.” Iwaizumi speaks softly.

Oikawa nods and sits down onto Iwaizumi’s large bed as the other leaves the room. He could hear the other male walking into the kitchen, maybe preparing tea or something else, before he enters Oikawa’s room. Less than two minutes later he returns with jogging pants and an alien hoodie.

“Do you need any help?” Iwaizumi says, kneeling down before him.

Oikawa simply nods as he feels wholly unable to even say a single word.

“Ok, change yourself. I’ll get you something warm.”

Five minutes later, Iwaizumi returns with a cup of tea and a bowl of ramen. The scent instantly sneaks up Oikawa nose. He accepts the food thankfully and eats it silently, while Iwaizumi remains silently, patiently waiting until he has finished his late meal.

“Thank you, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says exhausted and puts the bowl on the nightstand.

“No worries.”

Silence.

“Oikawa…”

“I think I better go to bed now.” Oikawa says briefly.

“No, you stay.”

“But you surely want to get some sleep.”

“That can wait.” Iwaizumi replies and sighs and he breathe in air before he continues softly. “I only have a vague idea about what happened. The young boy told me what-“

“I’m a slut.” Oikawa says, feeling his eyes water again. “I got fucked against the fucking wall. I’m a goddamn slut, _Hajime_. I even fucking liked it at some point.”

“You’re not a slut.” Iwaizumi replies sternly. “You’re far from being one. You didn’t even accept the payment, right?”

“That doesn’t change anything.” Oikawa says, his voice shaky and airily.

“It does.” Iwaizumi responses gently. “It really does.”

“Iwa-chan… I… I never…” Oikawa squeezes his eye, his knees locked against his chest. “I…” He stops as he struggles with words, causing a fresh wave of tears as he hears Iwaizumi climb into bed alongside him, wrapping his arms around him. The other male runs a gentle hand up and down Oikawa’s back, patiently waiting until the last of his tears work their way out of his system.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Iwaizumi mumbles while he continues stroking Oikawa’s back.

“Because I need the money.” Oikawa whispers. “I don’t have to do this for much longer.”

“You’re doing this job for too long already.”

“You know why I have to do this.”

“I do.” Iwaizumi replies. “And I support your dream, you know this. It’s just…”

“… the way how I earn my money.” Oikawa completes the sentence.

“Yes. I don’t like that you sell yourself. I never liked it. You could do so much more then selling your body to strangers.”

“I know. But that’s just the way it is.”

“You sacrificed so much. So, so much in order to achieve your dream. So much to be happy.”

“But I’m not there yet. I’m still a _nobody_.” Oikawa says slowly.

Iwaizumi pulls off and their eyes interlock. “No, you’re my friend. So you can’t possibly be a nobody.”

A weak smile flushes over Oikawa’s face. “You’re right. You always find a way to cheer me up, Iwa-chan.”

“Ou yes.” Iwaizumi says. “While you always find millions of ways to annoy me.”

Oikawa squawks and swats at Iwaizumi’s shoulder with his right hand. “You’re so mean.”

“See, there we go.” Iwaizumi says, rolling his eyes theatrically dramatic.

They remain quiet for a while, as Oikawa checks absentmindedly the time: 4:49 a.m.

“I think I better go now.” He says as he feels suddenly Iwaizumi’s grip around his wrist. “You stay here. I know you won’t sleep a wink if no one’s beside you.”

“You really do know me.” Oikawa says, as he finds himself relaxing under the blanket next to his best friend.

“Of course. It’s like back then when we were young. You were afraid that some ghosts would come and take you with them, remember?”

“I wasn’t afraid.” Oikawa pouts weakly, his eyes closed.

“You totally were.” Iwaizumi chuckles. “And you were cuddly.”

“I still am.” Oikawa replies, a small smile on his lips.

“Oh god.” Iwaizumi whines. “Now I regret that I invited you to stay.”

“So mean.” Oikawa says quietly. “Iwa-chan…”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

Silence.

“Not to mention. Just make sure you send me tickets to your premiere.”

“I promise… I will.” Oikawa says before drifting off into a dreamless sleep next to one of a few that meant the world to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi is wonderful friend, isn't he?


	6. Nightmares & Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa Tooru.  
> Overall a pretty silly guy.  
> ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is (probably) going to be the shortest chapter in the entire story so that's why I decided to upload it today.  
> 2\. We're getting closer to the first main act of the story ^-^  
> 3\. The next upload will probably be in a week since I'm moving and busy doing some other stuff. Please apologize.
> 
> As always: feel free to offer some critique & please enjoy :)

_Oikawa Tooru._

_Overall a pretty silly guy._

_Silly… that’s what people thought he was._

“Iwa-chan.” Six-year-old Oikawa yells. “Iwa-chan, why are you crying?”

Iwaizumi mumbles something. His cheeks are red, his eyes full of tears.

Oikawa sees that the other boy must have fallen off the tree he was going to climb. Blood trickles from the wound on either knee. Oikawa kneels down in front of him.

“You’re lucky, Iwa-chan. I have a tissue. So take that and then we go to mummy and she will heal it.”

“W-why does e-everything have a-aliens?” Iwaizumi sniffs as Oikawa pulls out an alien tissue and begins to clean the wound before he bandages it.

“Because aliens are cool.” Oikawa says cheerfully. “Much cooler than Godzilla.”

“Godzilla is stronger.” Iwaizumi comments.

“Maybe, but less smart.” Oikawa says, stands up and pulls Iwaizumi along. “Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk.” Iwaizumi pouts. “I’m six years old. I’m not a baby anymore.”

“Yes yes.” Oikawa sings and holds Iwaizumi’s arm tight to prevent him from falling again.

“Why are you smiling?” Iwaizumi asks perplexed as the slowly walk along the road. Oikawa’s house comes in sight.

“Because mummy will heal you. Mummy knows how to heal even the deepest wounds.” Oikawa responses proudly. “And then we can go and play again.”

_But there was a time that he was not smiling._

_Blessed with talent and the natural ability to learn and take on new stuff quickly, he matured faster than most others. But even he had walls in front of him he could not climb. He aimed higher but with each step, the fall to ground was longer, the impact harder._

_But with each fall, Oikawa ended up practising harder. With each fall he began to hate what he actually loved. What he actually aimed for._

_Everyone was better. He was the loser._

_Loser. An ugly, disgusting and unpleasant word. A word that contained so much yet rewarded only those who failed. Those who could not climb the walls. Those who could not achieve what others expected them to achieve._

 

“Why?” fourteen-years-old Oikawa hisses angrily. “Why are they so good? Why?”

“Calm down.” Iwaizumi says. “They’re talented just like you are.”

“No, they’re not.” Oikawa spits out. “They’re not talented. They’re just lucky that everyone likes what they do. They all make it look so effortless. They don’t have the same amount of passion I have.”

Iwaizumi turns to fully face Oikawa and his eyes widens as he sees tears running down the other boy’s cheek.

“I hate them. I hate them all.” Oikawa says bluntly. “I work so hard. For everything.”

“You overwork yourself.” Iwaizumi warns. “And that’s not good either. Being passionate is one thing, overworking yourself another.”

“I’m not overw-“

“YOU DO!” Iwaizumi yells and lessens the space between them. “You overwork yourself. Stop this, immediately. If you keep going like this you’ll hate what you once loved.”

_Oikawa hated it. He hated to see all the people that were better them him. He hated to see their arrogant faces. He hated to hear their lame words that were overload with high-handedness and narcissism._

_He hated whenever he had to lie to people he held most dear. He never told anyone about his dream. Never. No one believed in him anyway._

_No one._

_Oikawa Tooru._

_Overall a pretty silly guy._

_And yet, whenever he fell, whenever he lay widely awake at night, crying himself to sleep while fearing the next morning more than the actual fall – he never gave up. He got back on his feet._

_He started to climb. Again._

_And again._

“Iwa-chan.” seventeen-year-old Oikawa mumbles. His hands are trembling violently.

“What?” Iwaizumi says, putting his manga aside.

“Can I stay overnight?”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. “Sure, but… why?”

“My parents don’t want to see me…”

Iwaizumi frowns. “Why’s this?”

But Oikawa is not willing to provide the other with a proper answer.

“Hey, Oikawa, tell me why.” Iwaizumi demands harshly.

“Because they don’t believe in me.”

“I know, you’ve told me that.” Iwaizumi crosses his arms. “But that’s not everything.”

Oikawa presses his lips together. His eyes wander restless around, but he tries to avoid Iwaizumi’s staring glare.

“Because… because…” He stops and Iwaizumi sees tears overflowing his cheeks.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I… I’m… “ Oikawa stutters, wiping some of the tears with the back of his hand away. “I think… I think I’m gay Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth falls agape for the split of a second as he then clears his throat. “Oikawa I-“

But Oikawa cut him off. “Sorry Iwa-chan, I think I better go.”

“Tooru!” Iwaizumi says aloud. Oikawa stops immediately and their eyes finally interlock. “Tooru, you’ll listen to me now, ok? I don’t mind if you’re gay, alright? I don’t mind what other people say about you and your sexuality. It’s not up to you to decide with whom you fall in love with, right? So don’t be like a drama queen and say things like “I better go” because you go nowhere. You stay here, right now! Understood?”

Silence.

Iwaizumi’s strong glance meets Oikawa’s sad eyes.

Oikawa leans forward and throws his arms around the other boy’s neck. “Thank you, Iwa-chan. Thank you so much.”

“It’s ok.” Iwaizumi says quietly, his hands running gently up and down Oikawa’s back. “Just make sure you tell Mattsun and the others, too.”

Oikawa simply nods.

_He climbed and climbed, never allowed himself to rest. Because he knew on the other side lay the beauty, the reward of his dream. But to cherish this sight, he had to climb._

_Iwaizumi Hajime was the first person he ever told about his dream. And Iwaizumi Hajime was the first person that said: “Keep doing what you’re doing.”_

_Iwaizumi never laughed._

_He never made fun of him._

_He never told anyone a single word._

_Iwaizumi simply knew that Oikawa could climb. Oikawa had the strength to climb._

_And Iwaizumi knew once he had overcome his fear, once he had stopped to let anyone else drag him down; once he had learned to accept his surroundings; Oikawa would not fall again._

_He would stay there, above the wall and cherishing the sight he has._

_Oikawa Tooru._

_Overall a pretty silly guy._

_A silly guy with a dream._


	7. …giving hot tricks to men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Listen carefully: a girl knows her limits but a wise girl knows she has none.”
> 
> Kunimi frowns but Oikawa continues: “I may not be a girl but I strongly agree with the person who said this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I somehow found the time to write and upload this chapter... but I can't promise if another chapter will be uploaded. This week is just ridiculously busy.
> 
> Please enjoy and as always: feel free to offer any kind of critique.

“ _Tell me what do you know about dreams?”_ asks the young, handsome man, sitting on the red couch in “The Graham Norton Show”. “ _Tell me what you know about night terrors. Do you know any of them? Have you ever faced any of them?_ ”

“Of course I do.” Oikawa mumbles and gets off the couch and wanders into the kitchen. “Of course I did.”

The phone rings and Kunimi’s name pops up.  
  


_Are you feeling any better?  
_ _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:53 p.m.}_

_Aww, you’re such a cutie, sweetboy! ^.-  
_{February 10 th, 20..; 04:54 p.m.}__

_Yes, I’m fine.  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:54 p.m.}__

_Glad to hear.  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:54 p.m.}__

_Did you tell anyone else?  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:55 p.m.}__

_No. I said you’re sick and that you went to see the doctor and he told you to stay home for a couple days. Ukai is mad, but he has to accept it.  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:57 p.m.}__

_Goodie.  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:58 p.m.}__

_Are you really alright?  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:59 p.m.}__

_No worries, sweetboy. I’m tougher than I look :p  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:59 p.m.}__

_See ya tm, sweetboy. Give’em a spanking tonight ;p  
 _{February 10 th, 20..; 04:59 p.m.}__

_I will do my best!  
 _{February 10__ th, 20..; 05:02 p.m.}  
  


_Well, Iwa-chan wants me to stay home and so a stay home._ He thinks and pushes the button of the coffee machine.

He walks back into the living room, glancing at the TV screen and following the conversation for a while.

“ _You don't really know anything about desperate trials_.” The young continues.

“Of course I do.” Oikawa comments annoyed. “But I rather lay awake in a bed full of fear.” He then decides to turn the TV off.

He takes his laptop instead and checks his email first before he enters the homepage of _Japan Airline._ “Soon.” He reminds himself as he watches the next flights going to America. “Soon, I’ll take mine.”

He smiles happily all of a sudden. “I can’t wait to book my flight.” He exclaims cheerfully “Give me an A, give me a M, give me-.

The echo of the snapping front door sounds throughout the apartment.

“Hello Iwa-chan.” Oikawa hoots happily, getting off the couch.

Iwaizumi greets him grunting – like he normally does - and walks straight into the kitchen, opening the fridge and putting the fresh food inside.

“Ou, you went for groceries.” Oikawa comments. “Goodie, we ran out of fruits, y’know.”

“Not just fruits.” The other says grumpy as he closes the fridge. “The fridge was like a desert when I got up this morning.”

“Why’s that?” Oikawa says innocently.

“Let me think.” Iwaizumi crosses arms, pretending to be thinking about what could have stolen the food. “The police department talks about a strange guy. And said guy who raided our kitchen last night, stealing half a dozen of croissants, some meat, an entire chocolate cake and all the fruits was wearing light green boxers with tiny little aliens on them…”

“Well that could be anybody.” Oikawa says, staring at his nails.

“I can’t think of any other piece of trash within one hundred miles who’d come, sneak in at night, wearing nothing but his boxers with tiny little aliens and stealing our food.” Iwaizumi snorts annoyed, lessening the space between them.

“At my age, do you know how I’m statistically most likely to die?” Oikawa says, backing up.

“At the hand of your roommate.”

“An accident.” Oikawa explains, running out of the kitchen.

“That’s how I’m gonna make it look.” Iwaizumi exclaims and briefly catches up.

Oikawa flees into his room, shuts the door and locks it only to hear a noisy, crashing sound echoing throughout his bedroom: Iwaizumi’s body hits the door with full force.

“Open the door Shittykawa.”

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa sings. “Please, bear with me.”

“Not in one million years.”

“I didn’t mean to steal the food...”

“But you did.” Iwaizumi says angrily.

“… but I still believe this is a terrible misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” Iwaizumi laughs shortly. “You ate all the food. You even ate MY cake.”

“Was this your cake?” Oikawa says irritated. “I didn’t know you like to bake.”

“Shut up, Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi snorts. “I didn’t bake. I received it.”

“Really?” Oikawa leans closer against the door. “Was it a gift?”

“Yes, you stupid brown head.”

“So mean.” Oikawa whines. “Who gave it to you?”

“As if I’m going to tell you.”

“Why are you being so rude?” Oikawa cries dramatically.

“I’m not being rude. I’m just going to punch your face.” The other yells. “Unlock the door.”

“As if I’m going to open it.” Oikawa imitates the other, slightly giggling though.

“Stop making a fool out of me.”

“Ok, Iwa-chan. I’m sorry. I really am. And to show that I still love you even though you want to kill me-“

“-of course I will-“

“-me, your precious friend-“

“Precious? Since when does trash worth something?”

“- a friend you can trust and thoroughly rely on –“

“I’d rather rely on a stranger in the street.”

“- I will cook something nice for you.”

“I – wait, what?” Iwaizumi’s voice wafts from under the door into his bedroom.

“I will cook something for you.” Oikawa repeats happily.

“Ok… I’ll go and let the firemen know.”

“MEAN!” Oikawa cries sadly. “So. Unbelievably. Mean. Iwa-chan.”

“Ok, let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Oikawa asks.

“I won’t kill you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t.” Oikawa says cheerfully.

“But in return you will not go near the kitchen.”

Silence.

“What about the fridge?”

“Only if it can’t be avoided otherwise.”

Pause.

“Ok, deal.”

Oikawa unlocks the door and opens it. Grumpy eyes meet his brown. Oikawa blinks joyfully, showing two of his fingers flashed up. But Iwaizumi just growls and returns into the kitchen.

“So... what do we have for dinner?” Oikawa hums genuinely happy.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
The next night, Oikawa returns to _Purple Rain._ As he closes the back door, a friendly voice wafts towards him. “Tooru.”

“Ou, sweetboy.” Oikawa says, blinking. “How’re you doing?”

“Well, better, since you’re back.”

“Aww… you’re such a cutie.” Oikawa presses a teasing kiss on the other male’s cheek as he passes him and enters the dressing room.

“Ukai was mad first.” Kunimi says quietly. “But now he’s fine. I told him you caught a terrible cold.”

“Good, thank you.”

“Tooru-“ Kunimi begins but Oikawa raises his hand on the other stops instantly. “No one needs to know what happened the other night, got it?”

“Ok.” Kunimi nods. “But you really should-“

“No no, what did I just say, Aki-chan?”

“No one needs to know what happened the other night.”

“Correct.” Oikawa replies swiftly, facing now the mirror.

Kunimi sighes as Ukai enters the room.

“Ou, Oikawa, good to have you back.”

“Aw, did you miss me?” Oikawa turns.

“I always miss my “diamond dancers” if they aren’t around.”

“Tsk.” Oikawa pouts. “So you didn’t miss me in particular. Mean.”

“I did miss you.” Ukai states annoyed. “Anyway, get yourself ready. We need you on stage.”

“Of course you do.” Oikawa faces again his mirror. “After all that’s the place where I belong.”

Ukai raises an eyebrow but seems to swallow his comment and leaves the room again.

Kunimi watches fascinated how easily Oikawa puts on a light make up, fixing his hair with some hair spray and doing his nails to finish off his personal masterpiece. Oikawa Tooru stars at the mirror – and Gabriel Chase stars back.

“Perfect.” He whispers satisfied.

“You’re amazing.” Kunimi says breathless and sits down next to Oikawa.

“I wanna teach you a lesson, sweetboy.” Oikawa says and faces Kunimi fully. “Listen carefully: _a girl knows her limits but a wise girl knows she has none_.”

Kunimi frowns but Oikawa continues: “I may not be a girl but I strongly agree with the person who said this.”

“Who was it?”

“Marilyn Monroe.” Oikawa replies in pure awe. “A woman I would love from the bottom of my heart if my ass wasn’t so gay.” He laughs and sticks his tongue out teasingly.

“And what kind of lesson is this?” Kunimi asks slowly.

“That’s what I’m gonna tell you now.” Oikawa says peppy. “Look, I want you to know that all here, each in this room does this job in order to achieve something greater. Josh wants to be a professional dancer, Seth wants to be a painter. Everyone has something they aim for. But life doesn’t give anything for free, right? Life is just like an exam. Each task asks for something else, the result is different, the outcome either positive or negative, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do with the time the exams sets. When I started to be a diamond dancer, giving hot tricks to men, when I became “Gabriel Chase”, I looked at myself and simply set the time. And it’s still ticking. One year. And this one year is almost spent.”

“And then?” Kunimi asks.

“Then I have all the money I need. The money that brings me to the next task in my exam.” Oikawa blinks. “So, sweetboy. Whatever you aim for, go for it. Be a star. Be the star you are.”

And for a moment, although being Gabriel Chase on the outside, Oikawa Tooru shines up brighter than anyone else in the room, conjuring a wide smile onto Kunimi’s lips.

“Shall we join the gentlemen now?” he says playfully, two fingers flash up.

Kunimi, absolutely overwhelmed, nods and follows Oikawa outside.

“Tooru… hm… so you’re… gay?”

Oikawa instantly stops and turns. “Does it surprise you?”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s kinda weird, you know.” Kunimi says awkwardly. “Like… Seth has a girlfriend. Josh is… _Josh.”_

Oikawa giggles. “That’s actually says everything about Josh.”

“It’s confusing like…”

“Like no one’s sexuality is clear, amiright?” Oikawa sings amused.

“Yes.”

“Ok, it’s quite easy.” Oikawa clears his throat. “Some are straight, some are gay, some are here just for the sake of having fun and some have basically opened the wrong door.”

Kunimi’s puzzled gaze meet Oikawa’s eyes.

“Don’t think about it too much, sweetboy. You’re only going to hurt your head.” Oikawa says teasingly, and continues to walk down the corridor, as he hears him being announced by Ukai.

“Gabriel Chase, everyone.”

Oikawa takes a deep breath and his smiles widens as he hears a familiar song reaching his ears:

_I got a fever, an inflammation_  
_That's what I got_  
_You turn the heat on me  
_ _Some like it hot_

And he walks out as loud cheers welcome him, while Marlin Monroe voice keeps him company throughout his seductive performance. And many men melt and spend their money just to get a short, inflaming touch from Garbiel Chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Marlin Monroe - Some like it hot


	8. Valentine’s circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey you should be careful. You could've seriously hurt yourself if you would've fell." He says with a rough gravelly voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy :)

“Ok, listen up now.” Ukai says aloud and the room falls slowly quiet. Everyone turns his head to face their boss.

“As you may know – because everyone knows – but tomorrow is Valentine’s Day which means we have our yearly valentine’s show.”

Everyone nods.

“So, there nothing new about except for a few points.” Ukai says and takes out his notes. “Oikawa, you’ll be the announcer this time -”

“Ok.”

“- since Josh messed up last year.”

Giggles and short comments fly around, before everyone turns their attention yet again towards Ukai.

“Kunimi, you’re a newbie. You better stick either to Seth or… , well, no. Just stick to Seth.”

“Understood.” Kunimi says.

“You’ll be wearing new costumes for this event. We can’t have the same.”

“Goodie.” Oikawa sings. “So your brain does actually work.”

Ukai sends him a death glare.

“This will be the opening of the night. So make sure each of you gives his best because we’ll expect many broken hearts and desperate ex-lovers tomorrow.”

“As usual.” Watari comments deadpan.

They share a laughter.

“Ok, that’s it for tonight.” Ukai says and closes the short meeting

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

Throughout the year, _Purple Rain,_ holds several special events such as the “Christmas chocolate party”, “Valentines’ circus”, “Midsummer rain” and so on. And each of these events are massive parties, the performances beyond imagination and the costumes out of this world.

It seems as if the entire city is packed into automobiles, driving like a haunted animal in the forest and ending up at _Purple Rain._ It’s pouring, and the once sparkling city appears spooky in the rain while Oikawa walks along the ally towards the back door.

He passes a newspaper that is barely afloat, carried by the small waves and the passing by boats. A handsome man’s face is illustrated at the front cover. Oikawa sees it but does not recognize the man.

A kaleidoscopic carnival spills through the front door while Oikawa arrives in the dressing room.

“Ou, sweetboy, good to see you.” He says. “You’re all dressed up, goodie. Could you go and make sure I’ll get a tophat?”

“Sure.” Kunimi nods and disappears in the crowd.

Oikawa sits down and begins his work, the paintbrush gently caressing his skin.

All the dancers are busy preparing themselves, while the muffled sound wafts into the dressing room, occasionally filled with a loud laughter or cheer. Hundreds of friends, lovers and ex-lovers are excitedly waiting for the show to begin, yet they are already drawn into the web by the mere presentation of the club’s pounding heart; everything seems as if they had just entered a circus. Colour all over the walls, balloons on the ceiling, pictures of clowns and film stars, of animals and entertainers. A giant elephant in the midst, made of steel and covered in plastic, appears like the ruler of this room.

Fancy costumes meet outlandish costumes, rich meets less rich, urban meets rural.

Kunimi returns. “Here you go.”

He puts the top hat on top of Oikawa’s brown hair.

Oikawa smiles and blinks. “Perfect.”

He stands up and presents himself to Kunimi. “How do I look?”

“Perfect. Breathtaking.” Kunimi says stunned. “Like a very seductive circus director.”

“That’s what I’m aiming for tonight.”

“You’re so incredibly talented.” Kunimi mumbles. “I wish I had your talent, too. I wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore.”

“Wait, no.” Oikawa stops and looks deep into Kunimi’s eyes. “You’re talented, too. Don’t put yourself down, ok? I will help you to become better.”

Kunimi nods slowly.“Please smile again, sweetboy.” Oikawa demands friendly. “You look so much better when you’re smiling.”

And as Kunimi begins to smile, Ukai enters the room. “Ok, get in position. We start in about five minutes. Hurry up.”

Everyone in the room rushes away, separate into different directions, wishing one another a silent “Good luck.”

Ukai walks alongside Oikawa as he speaks up: “Ok, I’m going to welcome the people and stuff. When the music starts, it’s our game.”

“Of course.” Oikawa replies.“Don’t disappoint me.”

“Do I look like I would disappoint you?”

Ukai shakes his head and walks away, leaving Oikawa behind.

Less than two minutes later, the music dies abruptly and Ukai speaks into the microphone. “Good evening, gentlem.”

Loud cheerings.

“And the few ladies I see over there. Hello there!”

More cheering.

“For those who haven’t found their valentine yet…” Ukai pauses, simply enjoying the moment before he continues. “let me just say this, as a friendly advice: the night is not over yet.”

Wild, noisy cheering.

“And for that reason, we better start, right?”

The noise hit an impossible peak. It reminds now of an erupting volcano or a thunderstorm in the mountain rather than human noises.

“So please, welcome our precious… “

Theatrical pause.

“… _diamond dancers!”_

Oikawa nods, whispers something and waits for the music to start.

One second goes by.

His heart pumps a bit harder.

Another goes by.

His fingers are trembling lightly.

The last seconds come and go as the circus music starts to play and Oikawa enters the room. A huge wave of cheering and applause roll over him. He lifts the microphone and opens the show:

_Ladies and gentlemen_

_Step right up, step right up_  
_Come closer, you won't believe your eyes  
_ _Behind this curtain,_

Kunimi and Josh enter the room through a side door, dressed up as nasty, beasty wild animals, causing another wave of applause and cheering.

 _Witness something you've never seen before,_  
_Heard before, dreamt before  
_ _The most amazing show on earth_

Watari swings a torch, barely dressed and walking slowly, yet incredibly sensual over the counter. The crowd goes wild.

 _La la la la la la la_  
_It's the most amazing show on earth  
_ _La la la la la la la_

Oikawa reaches the gigantic elephant, swaying his ass seductively while two other dancer appear on top of the elephant. Everyone watches them riding the elephant, forming all types of exotic moves with their strong arms while rolling their hips delicately.

 _Do you want to be widely entertained?_  
_People to know your Name?_  
_Do you crave fame?  
_ _Well they say "things aren't always what they seem to be"_

Two other dancers appear a tightrope walker. And they do not just come out of the wall or another door. As the name already says – they appear in the air with nothing but ropes around their bodies, swinging them up and down.

 _Even your greatest fantasies_  
_You won't believe your eyes_  
_Won't even recognise_  
_The wonderment that lies  
_ _Behind the shimmer and the lights_

Another dancer arrives, holding chains in a tight grasp, while two other males – barely dressed of course – follow him crawling on the ground. The lions have come. The crow steps back, some spanking the ass of those two “wild” animals.

 _Is it true what they say?_  
_Is it all just fun and games?_  
_Or is there more behind the Makeup,  
_ _And the faces full of paint?_

Oikawa reaches at the pole in the middle of the room, his skin gently touching the cold metal. It seems impossible for the crowd to take their eyes off.

 _I ask you, do you want to come and Play?_  
_Hahahaha_  
_Get the world to come and Play  
_ _Hahahaha_

The remaining dancers appear from simply everywhere and roll over the crowd like a wave, leaving them overwhelmed and breathless, drowning them in pure satisfaction and erection. The room is steaming hot.

 _So sit back, relax, fasten your seatbelts  
_ _It's going to be a bumpy ride to the other side_

Oikawa takes off his top hat, bows and the lights go out for a moment.

Someone outside of the club would have thought of an explosion or something else to explain the deafening noise the crowd makes. So many adjective pop up to describe this spectacle and yet none seems to match the sensation, the situation, the moment.

And though Ukai speaks into the microphone, his voice could barely be heard. So he just leaves it as it is and decides to get himself a drink.

Oikawa leaves the stage as well and goes straight to the bar, where Watari and several other guys are busy accepting orders from everywhere along the counter.

“Well done, Gabriel Chase.” Says a man next to him and spanks his butt lightly.

Oikawa turns his head, blinks and says: “Of course.”

The man howls like a wolf and lessens the space between them, but Oikawa raises his hands and stops the other in his movement: “If you're going to hit it…” He pauses and walks past the man, he looks after him rather puzzled.

There are an extreme amount of people within the club. The air holds a pungent scent of sweat and desperation. Many lingering bodies litter the dance floor as Oikawa makes his way through. Brilliant lights flash in front of him, a wave of nausea overcome him for a second and that's when it happens. As he stares into a bright light someone, probably drunk, slams their hips into him. Oikawa let out a surprised, loud yelp as he feels himself falling and there he is, strong and rough hands. Oikawa’s hands drape around his neck as his body comes colliding with his arms. A sigh of relief comes out as Oikawa then looks towards his savior. As his brown eyes meet his cat like golden-yellow eyes his breath of relief take a turn into Oikawa’s breathing being cut off completely.

"Hey you should be careful. You could've seriously hurt yourself if you would've fell." He says with a rough gravelly voice. One that one could rely on yet that could command an army. The voice is one from someone he does not know of yet it peaks intrigue. The old time feeling of his voice is like smoke mixed with a warm pleasant sensation, one that demands to be listened to

And yet, Oikawa is too absorbed into looking to him that he probably does not hear most of what the other male attempts to relay to him. His hands are still draped over his shoulders and Oikawa can feel his strong muscles even by the light touch of his fingers on his reddish shirt. He has a calm aura to him which explains why he has been able to catch him so suddenly.

Oikawa’s mouth twitches in an attempt to say something back to him yet he could not get one word free from his dry mouth. His heart races as he continues to look up at this devilishly attractive man. His rough hands are firmly grasped around Oikawa waistline which makes his face lightly blush. Oikawa half hopes the other could not hear how loud his heart thumps against his chest as he continues to look up at this mysterious man who was his savior.

“I don’t mind to stay like this, but you’re getting heavy.” The other says. “Not that you’re too heavy at all.”

Oikawa muscle tenses and he brings himself up a steadier position. He is a few inches smaller than the bedhead haired male.

Bedhead hair?

“Thank you.” Oikawa says.

“No worries.”

No further movements.

_Tooru. Move your ass. You can’t be staring at strangers._

“You did a great performance.” The other says, and blinks.

He blinks _way_ too nasty for Oikawa personal taste.

“Thank you.” Oikawa says again. _TOORU. Move. Your. Ass._

“You saved me. It’s only fair if I get a drink for you.”

_Tooru. What the hell are you doing? Move your ass into the dressing room. Stop talking to strangers._

“That’s ok.” The other replies and drops his hand from Oikawa’s waist.

 _No, why do you drop your hand?_ Says voice no 2 in Oikawa’s head whereas voice no 1 yells: _Tooru. Get. Your. Fucking. Ass. Into. The. Dressing. Room._

“No, I want to.” Oikawa smiles suddenly.

“If you insist.”

“I do.” Oikawa says, still smiling.

Voice 1: _No._

Voice 2: _Jackpot._

Oikawa’s voice: _get out of my head._

Voice 1 & 2: _bye!_

Together they arrive at the bar and Oikawa offers his savior the last remaining seat. “Please wait here, I’ll be right back.”

“I will not move.” The other smirks.

Oikawa turns and walks away, his cheeks still red. As he stays behind the counter he suddenly realizes that he has no idea what his savior could like. Does he prefer something strong? Sweet? Sour? Dark? Light?

“Watari.” He calls the busy man and the other simply signals with a nod that he is listening.

Oikawa explains quickly what has happened and Watari suggests him either a Mojito, because it is simply yet a nice way to get in touch with someone or a black manhatten, that is a bit more special but definitely not everyone’s taste.

Oikawa decides a special Mojito and Watari does it for him.

Happily, he leaves the bar with two Mojito’s and returns to the seat. The man is still sitting there.

“There you go.” Oikawa hands one drink to the man. Their finger touch briefly as his savior accepts the drink, causing a new wave of fast heartbeats and reddish colour on his face.

“May I know your name?” Oikawa asks and leans a bit closer.

“Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou.” The other replies.

“Nice to meet you, Tetsu-chan.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows knit together for the split of a second as he then laughs and says: “If this is how you want to call me, I get better used to it.”

Oikawa nods. “Well, cheers.”

“Wait, what’s your name?” Kuroo pauses shortly. “I don’t think your real name is Gabriel Chase.”

Oikawa looks a moment nervously around and of course Kuroo notices it and quickly adds. “You don’t have to tell me, though.”

“I’d love to, but not… _here.”_

“Got it.” Kuroo says. “Later is fine.”

“Ok, I promise I will tell you later.” Oikawa hoots and blinks. “Well, cheers. And thank you.”

“No worries.”

And from that point on, Oikawa stays next to Kuroo, chatting and catching up, occasionally telling him to wait for a second as he either gets a new drink for the both of them or a fan of Gabriel Chase wants to take a photo.

Midnight passes as Kuroo suddenly says: “Would you like to dance?”

Voice 1: _Tooru… you know you should get back into the dressing room and change yourself._

Voice 2: _Yes! Yes! Yes! Make him rock our body._

Oikawa’s voice: _silence!_

Voice 1 & 2: _ok!_

“Yes, I’d love to. But,” Oikawa pauses and sticks his tongue out teasingly, “are you a good dancer?”

Kuroo puts down his glasses and all of a sudden his mouth is right next to Oikawa ear: “I’ll make you sweat, alright?”

The sheer sound of Kuroo’s voice send chills down Oikawa’s spine and his gulps hard. So sexy, so intoxicating, so nasty. Oikawa is definitely his prey and yet he does not believe Kuroo would force him to do something he would not want to.

Oikawa lets himself be guided into the dense group of sweaty, dancing bodies, feeling Kuroo’s strong fingers gently around his wrist. He then turns and faces Oikawa, pulling him closer and letting go of his hand. As Oikawa raises his eyes, he freezes for a moment: electrical shocks rush through his nerves and he feels fully aware of the formers heated gaze.

Kuroo sways his hips from side to side, forcing Oikawa slowly but surely to follow his example. But he is still too amazed to actually dance. He cannot find any word that would come even close to what he thinks, to describe what he sees, to tell what he feels. Everything is just beyond imagination.

And in a trice Kuroo dangerously lessens the space between them, and Oikawa feels his breath next to his ear, making the hair on Oikawa’s neck stand up.

“Don’t let me do all the work.” He says, his voice way _too_ soft and gentle.

Voice 1 & 2: _Move your ass!_

Oikawa’s voice: _got it!_

Oikawa’s breath shivers as his hands come to lay on Kuroo’s hips, sticking his tongue out teasingly. Kuroo returns this with a seductive smirk that Oikawa feels he would melt instantly like ice under the dashing hot sunlight.

He lets Kuroo guide him as the other brings his body closer to his, strong hands slowly wandering down his back. Oikawa feels his pounding heart painfully against his rib cage and he silently hopes that Kuroo would not notice nor hear it.

His sweaty palms grasp Kuroo’s hips softly both pleasing and teasing him, his thumbs pressing slightly on Kuroo’s hipbones as the other returns the teasing and runs his fingers through Oikawa’s soft brown hair; a new wave of electricity rushes through his entire body and a short moan escapes his throat.

Kuroos lips are almost hypnotising as they move to form next syllables: “You seem to like this.”

Oikawa gulps hard. And suddenly, Kuroo’s lips brush lightly against his.

_Brush lightly against his._

Kuroo is not teasing him anymore. He is provoking.

“So mean.” Oikawa whines.

Kuroo smirk widens cunningly, but there is no further attempt, no further _brushing_ his sensitive lips against Oikawa’s which leaves him only speculating about the touch and the taste of his lips and mouth. Sweat sticks his brown hair to his forehead, his eyes glistening with pure desire as he stares deep into Kuroo’s.

He is pleading for another touch. Pleading for more than just brushing his lips. Oikawa wants everything – and yet Kuroo genuinely enjoys, _cherishes_ the sight of Oikawa, all hot and bothered and wet, pleading for more. Kuroo appreciates Oikawa’s nails digging harder into Kuroo’s back, leaving those familiar, yet esteemed marks, as if they are some kind of a reward.

Oikawa pulls himself closer, leans forward, but Kuroo seems to know his business. He teases Oikawa as he brings his index finger between them, running it slowly down his chest, occasionally touching his bare skin due to the loose cloth he is wearing.

Oikawa shivers. “You’re so mean.”

“Impatient?” Kuroo licks his lips and rolls his hips.

“Stop teasing me, Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa blurs, half moaning, half protesting.

“But I know you like it… deep deep down you like every bit of it.” Kuroo purrs against his ear, _brushing_ it lightly.

Oikawa would not be surprised if steam escapes his ears. They are burning.

 _“Please.”_ Oikawa pleads, moaning, eyes closing in delirious arousal. “Your so mean to me.”

But all Kuroo does, is simply teasing and provoking him. Nothing else.

Hours later, maybe around 03:30 a.m., they leave the floor and Oikawa, exhausted like he has been working out all day long, guids Kuroo through the back door outside.

“You’re so mean.” Oikawa pouts weakly, leaning against the wall and deeply breathing in air.

Kuroo chuckles as he brings himself closer. “I don’t think I am.”

Oikawa gulps as Kuroo continues: “You’re the one who’s mean.”

“Why?”

“I still don’t know your name.” Kuroo says softly, his fingers gently touching Oikawa’s arms.

“Oikawa Tooru.” Oikawa’s says without any further hesitation.

“Tooru, hm?” The way Kuroo pronounces each syllable of his name sensually makes Oikawa shiver, sending once more chills down his spine.

“Would you mind if we meet each other sometime?”

There is a small silence between the two of them that remains for a few seconds. And those seconds are needed because Oikawa has to completely process the words and the meaning of them.

“I’d love to, Tetsu-chan.” He responses, unexpectedly shy though.

“Then…” Kuroo fishes out his cell phone and hands it over to Oikawa. “Type in your contacts.”

And Oikawa does as he is told to - with a smile -, adding his information in it before returning it to Kuroo.

_Tetsu-chan is a meanie.  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 03:53 a.m.}_

 

“Well, good night.” Kuroo says, putting his phone back.

“Goodbye.” Oikawa says and waits until he sees Kuroo fully disappear.

He then heads inside, a huge grin on his face and takes out his own cell phone and saves Kuroo’s number. It suddenly rings and Kuroo’s name pops up.

 

 _I like your hair, btw._ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) _".  
__{February 15 th, 20..; 03:58 a.m.}_

 

Oikawa snorts, but he cannot but to smile.  
 

 

 _Of course you do. ^.^ Stop teasing me._  
_{February 15_ th, 20..; 03:59 a.m.}  
 

 _You like it. You’re face is blushing. I can see it from the distance like a lighthouse.  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 04:01 a.m.}_

 

Oikawa snorts even louder. “He’s so mean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Christina Aguilera - Enter the Circus


	9. ‘til the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The difference between Oikawa – talented – and others – talented, too – is simple: He is aware of his talents. He works on them and he believes in them just like he believes in his dream; while others may just sit and wait for something to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes... finally some Mattsun/Makki in the story. They add such a refreshing flavour to the story :)  
> As usual: please enjoy and feel free to offer some critique.

“Iwa-chan.”

Silence.

No response.

“Iwa-chaaaan.”

Every graveyard is louder than their apartment.

“Iwa-chaaaaaannn I know where you hide your condoms.”

“What the fuck, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi’s angry voice sounds throughout the apartment. “Give me a break. It’s Sunday morning!”

“But you said I’m not allowed to cook.” Oikawa giggles, sitting up in his bed. “And I’m hungry.”

“Then go and eat fruits.” Iwaizumi muffles loud into his pillow.

“Can’t we have breakfast like other families?”

“Like- what?!” A huge noise follows.

Oikawa guesses that his friend must have fallen off his bed.

“We’re not a family, you dumbass. If we were I would jump off the next bridge.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa pouts first but then chuckles. “But you know what? I would come and safe you.”

“Ou god, no.” Iwaizumi cries. “God, why do you hate me this much? What have I ever done to deserve _this?”_

“He cares deeply. That’s why he sent me.” Oikawa hoots happily.

“I will leave the church.” Iwaizumi says. “To prevent any more damage or punishment.”

“If you do that, then I’m gonna lose all respect for you.”

“Good, then we’ll both have the same amount of respect for each other.” Iwaizumi growls.

“So rude.” Oikawa whines and takes the cell phone. Over the night he has received tones of texts and emails and Facebook notifications. He skips most of the “blah blah no one cares”-mails, texts Matsukawa and Hanamaki back and opens Facebook. He has six new friend requests. He is not so surprised by the first three of them: some strange girls who have found him on Facebook and intended to get in touch with him.

_God, always these fangirls._

Delete.

The fourth is a young man he does not know. He looks not too bad but Oikawa is not interested in sharing his photos – they are brilliant – with people he has never met in all his life.

Delete.

The next one is a- OMG, is that a head? It reminds Oikawa of a tomato. Red and big and… _red._

Delete.

The last one is – and Oikawa screams shortly – from Kuroo Tetsurou. He adds him in next to now time and even his heartbeat is louder than it was before. Of course he begins to go through the different galleries.

Kuroo has plenty of photos and as Oikawa silently looks at them with great interest, he notices that Kuroo is always surrounded by people. Always. Wherever he went, people tagged along. People admire him and love being with him - wherever he goes.

A strange feeling takes hold oh him. Besides Iwaizumi, who may still lay on the ground, he has almost no other friends he spends his time with. Matsukawa and Hanamaki... Yahaba, too, but the latter is in the States, doing some sort of exchange program.

Although many people admired - and might still do so - him for his looks, most have abandoned him over the years. They go to universities, they attend classes, some of them work to cover their expenses and stuff and Oikawa could see on Facebook that they simply enjoy the time being together with their friends.

He on the other side is working as a “diamond dancer”, earning as much money as he possibly could while pursuing his dream. And with each payment he gets a little closer.

Oikawa sighs, locks his phone and gets out of the bed and puts some casual clothes on – his favourite alien hoodie of course. He picks up his coat, phone and wallet and leaves the room.

“Iwa-chan.”

No response.

Oikawa chuckles lightly, turns and walks straight to said man room. And there he is, still on the ground, the pillow beneath his face, wearing nothing but his black boxers. Oikawa hums joyfully as he enters the room, kneels down and takes out his phone.

Click.

Click.

Oikawa checks the selfie he has taken and giggles. He puts his phone back, makes sure that Iwa-chan would not be suspicious about it and begins to tickle Iwa-chan back.

“You better get your hands off me.” The other whispers.

Oikawa chuckles. “Sorry, I didn’t get that.” He then teases the edge of Iwaizumi’s boxers.

“I said you better get your hands off.” Iwaizumi opens his eyes and his strong arm pushes Oikawa away.

“Ouch.” Oikawa exhales. “Rude.”

“Shut up.” Iwaizumi hisses and crawls back into his bed, throwing the blanket over his shoulder.

“For a straight guy you have a pretty nice ass, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa hums in delight.

The next he feels is Iwaizumi’s pillow against his face.

“Get out of my room.”

“I was just complementing you.” Oikawa pouts and gets up, throwing the pillow back to its owner.

“Too early.” Iwaizumi turns his back towards him. “What do you even want?”

“I’m going for a walk. Do you need me to get you something?” Oikawa says, smiling.

“No. Now go.”

“You could come with-“

“NO. GO!”

Oikawa snorts and leaves without another word.

It is a windy day in Tokyo, the cold breeze buffeting freezing people back and forth as they nervously make their way through the overly crowded city. The smell of rain and smoke sneaks up Oikawa nose and a thick, grey fog disguised the streets, making it difficult for even locals to go about their daily business - Sunday or not - without getting lost in the unrecognizable streets.

Everything about Oikawa Tooru screams confident as he strolls through the streets, grinning at everyone and everything he comes across, two fingers flashing up occasionally, whether they are shivering clusters of tourists or tired locals.

He heads towards the park he only visits whenever he feels the need to get some fresh air and dump some of his thoughts into the pond of cold water. Despite the cold weather, he sees many people walking around the huge, green area, simply enjoying the day off.

And so does he.

But first…

He takes out his cell phone, unlocks the display and scrolls for the latest selfie’s taken. He chuckles as he sees himself, leaning slightly over the sleeping, barely dressed Iwaizumi, sticking out his tongue teasingly.

Snapchat-time.

He photoshops the photo just slightly, because he looks a bit tired and there are small bags under his eyes. After two, three swift clicks, they have simply vanished.

Ok, now…  
  


To: Makki3, Maatsusu, Godzillazumi and Ya-baba

“that ass tho･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*”  
  


Send.  
  


_It’ll take a while until they see it_ He thinks, happily as if he had just sent some nice flowers to his grandmother or so. He shoves his cell phone back into his pocket and begins to walk.

But his silent, lonely walk does not last long as he hears some loud hip-hop music wafting into his mind. His eyes begins to wander as he finds the music’s origin.

A group of young people, maybe one or two years younger than he is, are playing some music while some of them are showing off their dance moves. Oikawa counts four women and five men. Not all of them are Japanese, in fact, they are speaking English.

Oikawa balks and watches them for a while as one of the girls notices him. She nods and the others turn their heads as well, all now fully facing the observing man.

“Yo, dude, what’s up?” One of the taller male says.

Oikawa eyebrows raises as he replies in english: “Where did you learn those moves?”

“States.” The other says.

“Tourist?” Oikawa asks.

“Nah. Visiting friends.” The other chuckles, pointing behind him. Now Oikawa recognizes two Japanese standing there.

“I see.” Oikawa replies. “I think you’re moves are pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” The boys snorts and bursts into a laughter.

“Can you dance?” One of the girl blurts out.

“I do.”

“What type of music do you dance to?”

“Pretty much everything.”

“Really?” The tall boy, maybe the leader of this group, says. “Interested in a little battle?”

“Dance battle?” Oikawa asks.

“Sure. No fist fight and shit. Don’t wanna get into troubles are my da kicks my ass.” The man chuckles.

“Alright.” Oikawa says and takes off his coat and turns towards one of the girls: “Would you mind?”

“Sure.” She says, slightly blushing, as he hands her his coat.

“Is Hip-Hip fine?” Another male asks. “Or some states rap or R&B? Ou and I’m Jayden btw but everyone calls me just Jay.”

“All is fine.” Oikawa hums cheerfully. “Tooru’s my name. But they usually all call my fabulous.”

Short chuckles.

“For real?” Jay asks, smirking.

“Let’s say, _occasionally.”_ Oikawa sings playfully. “Shall we start?”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” One of the Japanese’s guys yells and giggles.

“Kento, shut up and give us some real music.” Jay answers harshly, his grin steadily though.

“Chill.” Kento says and presses play.

Oikawa smiles as the music reaches his ear. “Step up?”

“Hey why not?” Jay says and makes the first move.

Oikawa watches until he takes over. And the group is instantly flashed. His movements are elegant, yet matches the sound the buzzing hip-hop perfectly.

“See, that’s what we call dancing.” One of the girls yells teasingly. “Not the weird shit you do, Jay.”

“Shut up, Michelle.” Jay yells, but his smirk widens as he accepts the fight. He begins to show off his best moves. But as Oikawa sways his butt, the girls cheer while the guys burst into laughter.

The difference between Oikawa – talented – and others – talented, too – is simple: He is aware of his talents. He works on them and he believes in them just like he believes in his dream; while others may just sit and wait for something to happen.

But not Oikawa. He is not someone who waits for something to happen. He is the one who gets up and starts to actually do things. He takes matters in his own hands.

And as it goes for his dream, it goes for dancing. He does not just do one step. He takes two. He does not turn once, he turns twice. Everything should be a little better, yet more outlandish than what is expected.

Oikawa does nothing “just because”. If he decides to do something, he does it with his heart – like the “dance battle” he is having right now. And he does it good. Excessively good.

Because he has talents, just like others. He is neither a superhuman nor some type of a strange alien – well, occasionally, when he is drunken, but that is another story. And by the time the reach the end, it is not Oikawa who is panting.

It is Jay.

Loud cheerings.

“Awesome man!” One of the male’s – introduced as Justin – says and pats his back. “You rocked the shit out of it.”

“Danggg… “ Jay exhales, still panting. “You nailed me. I’m totally stunned.”

Oikawa blinks. “Did you think a gay ass wouldn’t know how to dance hip hop?”

Silence.

Then, everyone burst into a roaring laugher – except for Jay.

“Dude, a faggot spanked your ass.” Justin yells amused. “No offense there, though.” He adds, turning towards Oikawa.

“None taken.”

“That’s freakin’ awesome!” Chloe, the girl who is holding his coat, screams, still laughing.

“Oh my gosh, can I hug you?” Michelle asks.

“Sure.” Oikawa giggles, and she instantly throws her arms around his back.

Jay, now smiling, raises his arms. “I think I’m fucked up. But still man, respect for those moves!”

“That compliment is like a reward.” Kento explains. “Because Jay is not famous for complementing.”

“He’s a meanie.” Oikawa says, sticking out his tongue teasingly, earning another bursting laughter while the word “meanie” echoes all over the park, causing some elderly people looking around puzzled and questioning.

Oikawa ends up dancing for around an hour, earning more and louder cheering after each performance.

“Hell, you’re awesome.” Chloe says.

“He is fabulous.” Michelle adds.

“Hey, Jay, you look kinda old now.” Justin hoots jokingly.

“Anyway, guys, I’m gotta go now. It was nice to meeting you.” Oikawa says, two fingers victoriously flashing up.

“It was nice to meeting you, too.” Jay says. “We’ll add you on facebook, alright?”

“I’ll be flattered.” Oikawa answers swiftly as he puts on his coat.

“I like your hoodie.” Michelle says, blinking.

“Of course you do.” Oikawa chuckles. “See ya guys.”

“See ya. Keep in touch.”

And by the time he reaches the exit of the park, the sound of muffled music reaches his ears. He sighes as he begin to slowly walk back to his apartment. His knee is beginning to hurt from all the walking and dancing.

He fishes out his phone and unlocks it. 137 unread messages on line pop instantly up.

137 unread messages that mostly contain very angry texts from the barely dressed man he photographed just this morning: Iwaizumi Hajime.

Oikawa giggles as he opens their group chat.  
 

_Oizumahaya <3 <3 <3 <3_

 

_Mattsun: Nice ass… -.-  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:01 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: yes… really nice… --.--  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:19 p.m.}_

 

_Yahaba: What were you guys doing?? ^.-  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:21 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: do we really neeed to know that?  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:31 p.m.}_

_Yahaba: …  
_ _{February15 th, 20..; 02:34 p.m.}_

_Makki: …  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:35 p.m.}_

 

_Yahaba: No… hey, what flowers do we usually use for a funeral?  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:37 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: Did someone die?  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:41 p.m.}_

 

_Yahaba: Well, Oikawa will surely die. Damn…  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:51 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: What?  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:54 p.m.}_

 

_Yahaba: I’m not sure if I can attend his funeral. So I’ll be sending flowers.  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 02:56 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: Very kind.  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 03:01 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: Let’s not forget thoughtful.  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 03:02 p.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: I WILL FUCKING KILL THIS MAN AND BURY HIS BODY SOMEWHERE IN THE FORST!!!!!!!!!!!!  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 03:11 p.m.}_

 

_Yahaba: R.I.P. Oikawa Tooru  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 03:14 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: R.I.P.  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 03:16 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: R.I.P.  
_ _{February 15_ th, 20..; 03:18 p.m.}  
 

And 120 more messages…

 

_Love you, too, Iwa-chan <3 <3  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 3:51 p.m.}_

 

Oikawa giggles and shoves his cell phone back deeper into his pocket. He arrives about half an hour later and opens the front door and familiar voices waft towards him.

“Makki? Mattsun?” Oikawa says aloud, taking of his shoes.

The apartment falls silent. Oikawa frowns and walks towards the living room and finds his friends sitting there. And an angry… god he is angry Iwaizumi.

“Hey, Oikawa.” Hanamaki says. “You better tell what you’d like to wear on your funeral ‘cause-“

“YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!” Iwaizumi screams and jumps off the couch. But Matsukawa hands grip Iwaizumi’s wrist and pulls him back onto the couch, holding him in place, while the other swears and tries to get rid of the hand.

Oikawa giggles. “Iwa-chan, I was just completing you. You have a nice ass.” He blinks. Iwaizumi sends him a death glare.

“Anyway.” Hanamaki raises the book again he is holding.

A book that is very familiar to Oikawa.

_Too_ familiar for his liking.

“Why are we reading Oikawa’s diary by the way?” Iwaizumi growls irritated.

“They’re reading my diary?” Oikawa exclaims horrified, hurries over.

“It’s well written.” Matsukawa replies and shrugs.

“He’s better on page than in person.” Hanamaki adds deadpan.

“Mean.” Oikawa pouts.

“And what if the Nazis or some huntsmen get us and it’s all we have of our friends?” Matsukawa continues.

“Fair enough.” Iwaizumi looks convinced.

“Hey.” Oikawa yells loudly.

“What?” The three of them look at Oikawa.

“Don’t ignore me.” Oikawa snorts and adds. “Where did you find it anyways?”

“In your room.” Matsukawa’s brows knit together.

“In your nightstand.” Hanamaki adds. “Unlocked.”

“Seriously Oikawa, you shouldn’t keep everything in your nightstand.” Iwaizumi shakes his head in disbelief.

“It’s too obvious.” Hanamaki concludes.

Oikawa lessens the space between him and Hanamaki, as Iwaizumi pushes him aside and takes the book. His browns knit together.

“Kuzco?” He wonders aloud.

“Kuzco?” Oikawa stops irritated in his movement.

“Alien name?” Matsukawa guesses.

“Or some kind of secret code?” Hanamaki says.

“Star Trek?”

“Isn’t he more into Star Wars?”

“Maybe he’s trying to make up his own universe.” Iwaizumi adds.

“No, I’m not.” Oikawa pouts. “I never heard of that word either.”

“You wrote it.” Iwaizumi says and begins to read loud. _“… and he has the nicest butt I’ve ever laid my hands on. I still feel totally flustered and wonder how his lips might feel.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “His name matches perfectly his personality, each syllables is like hot lava to me. Kuzco –_ “

“That’s not Kuzco.”

_“- Tetsurou.”_

“That’s KUROO!”

“Kuroo?” Hanamaki frowns. “What is a Kuroo?”

“Maybe an intergalactic super alien?” Matsukawa says deadpan.

Oikawa takes his diary and presses it against his chest. “I met him last night and he’s really nice.”

“Ou, it’s a _man.”_ Hanamaki says.

“Pity. I was going for the intergalactic love story.” Matsukawa comments disappointed.

Oikawa snorts. “Mean. So mean. All of you.”

“We’re not mean.” Iwaizumi growls. “Besides… who took a photo of me?”

“That’s different.” Oikawa chuckles lightly. “Anyway… why are you two here?”

“We thought we crash in and see what you guys are up to.” Matsukawa explains.

“But since it’s Sunday.” Hanamaki adds, stretching his legs. “There’s not much we could do.”

“Iwa-chan could cook.” Oikawa suggests.

“Why should I-“ Iwaizumi begins but Matsukawa and Hanamaki interrupt. “Sounds good. So we’ll stay for dinner.”

“Great. I’ll go and have shower.”

“Hey?!” Iwaizumi shouts.

“Ou, sorry Iwa-chan, quite forgotten.” Oikawa sticks out his tongue. “Would you like to join me?”

“Hah?!”

“You better run.” Matsukawa suggests.

“And lock the door.” Hanamaki comments.

“It wouldn’t be the first time we’d shower together.” Oikawa sings cheerfully.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki exchange short glances and their grins widens, while Iwaizumi turns his head and sends him a demonic glare: “Shittykawa… that was back then when we were children. Five or six years old you dumbass.”

“And even as a six year old you had a nice ass.” Oikawa blinks.

“I’ll punch you.” Iwaizumi yells. “I’ll punch you and then I’m gonna burn your diary.”

“Not my diary.” Oikawa exclaims horrified and backs up. “I’m going to have a shower – on my own, for your record.”

“I don’t fucking care, _for your record.”_

Oikawa turns and leaves. As he enters his room, he puts down his diary onto the bed and takes out his phone. Two unread messages on line.

He opens it and his heart skips a beat.  
 

_What’s up, beautiful dancer ^.-  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 05:08 p.m.}_

   
 _Beautiful…_

This simple word echoes in his head, sending him pleasant shivers down his spine and making his cheeks blush. Kuroo Tetsurou voice wafts into his mind and making him strangely dizzy. He sits down, reading those three simple words over and over again.

He does not know for sure how many he has read the message until he finally is able to text him back.  
 

_Tetsu-chan, you’re such a cutie (_ _ﾉ_ _◕_ _ヮ_ _◕_ _)_ _ﾉ_ _*:_ _･ﾟ_ _✧  
_ _{February 15_ th, 20..; 05:31 p.m.}  
 

He puts down his phone for a second, takes of his clothes and wanders light like an elf into the bathroom. By the time the doors snaps shut, his phone rings again.

He unlocks it and stares at the latest message.  
 

_I’ve been called many things but never that *LOL*  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 05:33 p.m.}_

 

_Awww… 0.o … how come?  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 05:33 p.m.}_

 

He stands in front of them mirror, see his own reflection.

_Tooru… shower... shower… … text Kuroo… text him… … shower… text… Phone rings… Tooru… it rings…_

He takes his eyes off the mirror and unlocks his phone instantly. His heart is pounding loud and wild.

 

_Dunno, tbh.  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 05:35 p.m.}_

 

_We better change that. To me you’re a cutie ^.^  
_ _{February 15 th, 20..; 05:35 p.m.}_

 

“Hey, Trashykawa.” He hears Iwaizumi’s voice wafting under the door into the bathroom. “Hurry up, we’re almost ready.”

_Shit._

“Yes, please wait.” Oikawa demands. “Please.”

“Five minutes.”

“Let’s give him ten.” He hears Matusawa’s low voice.

“Thanks Mattsun.” Oikawa yells before Iwaizumi is in position to say otherwise.  
 

_Tetsu-chan, gonna go showering. Text ya later. :_ _･ﾟ_ _✧  
_ _{February 15_ th, 20..; 05:36 p.m.}  
 

Seven minutes and fourteen seconds later, he close the faucet, forty-four seconds later he’s wearing short pants and – another – alien hoodie, one minute and seven seconds he leaves, with dried hair, the bathroom and opens his phone again.

Kuroo’s text pops up.  
 

_Need some company?_  
_{February 15 th, 20..; 05:37 p.m.}  
_

Oikawa freezes. The wildest imaginations begin to take form in his mind, making his skin burn and his ears throb.

“Oikawa?” Hanamaki says irritated.

But nothing seems to break Oikawa current state. He is so into his own daydreams, he does not realizes as Hanamaki approaches him and gently hits his shoulder.

“Earth to alien nerd.”

“Hu-wha- nerd?” Oikawa frowns. “Nerd?”

“Ou, you’re still alive.” Hanamaki cheers. “We’re waiting.”

“Waiting?” Oikawa repeats perplexed.

“Dinner?” Hanamaki eyebrows shoot up. “Shabu-Shabu?”

“Ah, yes… yes.” Oikawa says, forcing his lips into another smile.

“Did something happen while you were showering?”

“No.” Oikawa chuckles airily. “We’re all good.”

_Close. Makki is suspicious as ever. Only Hajime is worse._

Before he enters the dining room, he quickly types another texts before pressing “send”.  
 

_Nasty, Tetsu-chan. Very nasty ;) ;) ;)  
_ _{February 15_ th, 20..; 05:53 p.m.}  
 

Kuroo’s next text goes unnoticed for quite a while since Oikawa has joined his friends for dinner as well as sharing couple hours of talking with them. He genuinely enjoys his day off, not thinking or worrying about anything for once.

“Hey, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi says, opening his third beer. “Almost forgot to tell you. Jesus… getting old. Anyway, someone sent you flowers while you were out.”

“Flowers?” Oikawa repeats irritated.

“Yes, flowers. There in the kitchen.” Iwaizumi responses. “Go and see yourself if you don’t believe.”

Matsukawa sighs: “Maybe Kuzco –“

“Kuroo.” Hanamaki corrects.

“ – likes him, too.”

The three exchange short glances. “Naaaahh…”

“How rude!” Oikawa pouts, pushes his chair back and walks into the kitchen.

White roses.

More than a dozen white roses are in a vase, next to the sink.

“WOW.” He exhales. “Someone truly likes me. Why don’t you give me roses, too, Iwa-chan?”

“Because you annoy me all the time?”

“Wrong.” Oikawa comments while gently touching the roses. “Because I deserve them.”

“Yoo’ve done nothing to deserve flowers.” Iwaizumi growls.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki share a short laughter.

“Isn’t there a card or something?” Oikawa asks, as he checks each rose one by one.

“There is. One of the-“

“Got it.” Oikawa exclaims happily.

He opens it and…

… oh god no… no way.

_Sorry about the other night. I think I went too far._

_Ushijima Wakatoshi_


	10. “I’m here”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So… you were worried.”  
> Silence.  
> Oikawa can see the tip of Kuroo’s ear slightly turning red. He chuckles but remains quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to offer some critique :)
> 
> Please see the notes at the end...

Oikawa walks along the road, ignoring all the girls and women (and sometimes men, too) who glimpse at him shortly and shyly.

He never liked Monday. And he never will like it. And today, exactly on a Monday, he has an appointment. Well, for some other people it could be considered as a date.

But dates are usually meant for something to be with someone while having a nice time. But this will not be the case on this particular Monday.

Just the day before he received white roses from Ushijima Wakatoshi. He has sent them to apologize for… well, to put it plainly, fucking him against the wall. Oikawa then decided to give the roses away (hilariously Makki took them home) and immediately sent Ushijima an email.

But this went all wrong.

Oikawa tempted to tell him that he should not bother with sending him roses as an apology. It would not change the past anyway. Ushijima seemed to understand this as he all of a sudden invited Oikawa for a coffee.

Well, invited is not the correct word. Insisted matches the content of said email by far better.

And now, on this windy Monday morning, Oikawa walks along the road and enters the coffee shop where – much to Oikawa’s dismay – Ushijima is already waiting for him.

Oikawa rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Hello… Too-“

But Oikawa cut him off. “Nah. Oikawa for you.”

Ushijima frowns but continues then: “Oikawa. I’m glad you’ve come.”

“Since you almost threatened me with sending more gifts.” Oikawa growls and sits down. Across the table. His hand still in the pocket of his coat. Hair perfect as always.

“I just wanted to express my apology.” Ushijima says as the waiter turns up.

“What do you get?” he asks Oikawa.

“Cappuccino.”

“Anything else for you, sir?” He turns towards Ushijima.

“Just another coffee late.”

The waiter nods and leaves.

Ushijima folds his hands and his eyes come to rest upon Oikawa’s beautiful face. Of course. But Oikawa does not appreciate this and curtly says: “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“Yes.” Ushijima replies relaxed. Too relaxed for Oikawa’s liking. “I want to apologize for the other night. I treated you not exactly in the way I wanted.”

“The way you wanted?” Oikawa repeats perplexed.

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure if I can believe that.” Oikawa comments deadpan, eyebrows knitting together.

“May I ask why?”

Oikawa bite’s his lower lip for a second. _Should I let him know that Iwa-chan heard what he said? Well, why shouldn’t I…?_

“Well…” Oikawa clears his throat. “To be honest, one of friends told me what you said in the street. It’s a rather strange coincidence that you guys passed each other’s way but after I described you to my friend, he simply approved my theory that the Gor-… the tall man in the street and the man who… booked me… is one and the same person.”

Ushijima remains quiet for a while, as the waiter turns up with the drinks they have ordered a few minutes ago. Ushijima sighs and says then: “Well, I won’t deny what I said. But would you kindly hear me out before you think the worst of me?”

“I already do that.” Oikawa replies harshly. “But ok… go ahead.”

“Thank you.” The other male says. He nips at his coffee as he begins to talk again: “Believe it or not but I said that only as a joke because I never intended to do that. But I’m afraid I got a bit carried away. Mostly because of the alcohol and your seductive appearance.”

“Now it’s my fault?” Oikawa exhales, but feels his cheeks slightly blushing.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Ushijima replies surprisingly clam. “It’s not your fault. Well, anyway, I always wanted to meet you because I saw how talented you are. As a dancer.”

“And?” Oikawa comments, keeping his face straight.

“I like people who are talented. I feel kinda attached to them. And so I wondered how I could get in touch with you as I heard of the “private” shows PR’s offers. And so there I saw my chance to meet you. But I honestly never thought I’d lose it and… well… you know…”

“Fuck me against the wall.” Oikawa adds, his eyes narrowing. “As you ironically announced beforehand in the street.”

Ushijima presses his lips together before he slightly nods. “Yes.”

“Reeeeally strange way to show someone how much you feel attached to them, don’t you think?” Oikawa snorts, taking his own cup.

“I agree.”

“And now? What do you want?”

“I just want you to know that I really regret what I’ve done. That’s not my usual behavior towards anyone.” Ushijima responses and a sad smile flushes over his face.

Oikawa puts down his cup. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” Ushijima nods briefly.

“What do you mean when you say “feel kinda attached to talented people”?”

“I mean exactly what the words say.” Ushijima says and leans forward. “Oikawa, you’re an amazing dancer. You shouldn’t be dancing in a strip club. That’s not the stage where you belong. The one where you belong is different.”

Oikawa frowns. _Why does he say this? What could his interest be? Does he really just feel kinda attached to me? That’s odd. Just because I’m talented…? He really is an odd gorilla._

“I know that already.” Oikawa says and finishes his coffee. “Don’t bore me with stuff I already know.”

“I just wanted you to know how I see you.” Ushijima says. “What I see in you.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes but he feels his cheeks blushing again. _Goddamn you. Why are you being so nice to me? Are you trying to seduce me or what? Do you want to fuck me again? Where is this time? In your car? Your apartment? Hey… how about your garage? Or… even better, right here, on the table?!_

“Is that all you want to say?” Oikawa asks und buttons his coat.

“Yes.”

“Well, then… If you excuse me now, I gotta go.” Oikawa stands up as he feels a strong grip around his wrist that holds him in place. He turns and faces Ushijima again. Their eyes interlock and for the space of a few breath neither of them dare to say a word to destroy the silence they share. It feels as if the whole world stands still for a moment.

Ushijima clears his throat: “I will send you each Sunday new flowers, Oikawa Tooru, just to let you know that I regret what I’ve done. You deserve a better treating than this.”

Something in the way how these words rolled over Ushijima tongue causes Oikawa to shiver slightly. _Why is he so nice to me all of a sudden? Why?_

The silence between them grows heavy and Oikawa coughs lightly. “Hm… ok… but I still gotta go now… Can you please let go of my wrist?”

“Ou, of course.” Ushijima releases Oikawa’s wirst. The area of skin has grown accustomed to the warmth without Oikawa noticing, and now he oddly misses Ushijima’s touch. _No no… what’s going on here? I. Don’t. Like. It. Does he have a crush on me or what? And why can’t I take my eyes off. Tooru… move your ass out of this place. Go. Now._

“Ok… then… goodbye.” Oikawa says awkwardly.

“Bye. Thanks for coming.” Ushijima says and adds quietly. “I’m here for you.”

Fast, but not _too_ fast, Oikawa leaves the place and hurries back to his apartment.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
Later the same day, he enters _PR’s_ through the back door and heads towards the dressing room. And of course Kunimi is the one who greets him frist.

“Hello Tooru.”

“Sweetboy, evening.” Oikawa blinks and sits down in front of his mirror. “How are we doing?”

“Better, since you’re being back again.”

“Awww… you’re such a cutie.” Oikawa sings. “Go and get a girlfriend… or boyfriend…”

“Boyfriend.” Kunimi states. “Though I’ve never been in a relationship.”

“That’s a surprise.” Oikawa says, eyebrows shooting up. “How can such a sweet boy not be in a relationship? What’s wrong with the world?”

“I don’t know.” Kunimi scratches the back of his head. “Maybe almost no one knows that I’m gay and I’m not really into clubs and clubbing.”

“Ha! And now you work in a club.” Oikawa chuckles. “The world really is odd.”

“I agree.” Kunimi says and sits down next to him. “And I also never had s-“ He abruptly stops and looks away.

“What was that?” Oikawa asks, putting his cell phone aside and taking one of the paintbrushes.

“Nothing.” Kunimi says embarrassed. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me.” Oikawa says, gingerly putting on his makeup.

“Promise me you won’t laugh?” Kunimi says quietly.

“Why should I?” Oikawa says and adds. “Unless there is a reason to laugh. But I don’t think there is one since you’re being so serious about it.”

“You’re right...” Kunimi says and coughs. “Well, to be honest… I… I never had sex.”

Oikawa hesitates for a moment. “Never?”

“Not once.” Kunimi stuttered, feeling wholly unwell in his own skin.

“And why should I laugh now?”

“Maybe… uhm… because…”

Oikawa puts down the paintbrush and turns towards Kunimi. “Look, sweetboy. No one cares if you had sex already or not. Josh here lost his virginity at the age of twenty-three. Did someone care? No. Did someone make fun of him? Not in the least.”

“But isn’t it strange for a stripper to be a virgin?” Kunimi asks awkwardly.

“Nah, I don’t think so, sweetboy.” Oikawa says and lessens the space between them. “Wait for the moment when it feels right for you. There is no need to rush.”

“Ok.” Kunimi nods.

Oikawa turns towards the mirror again, as he hears Kunimi speaking again: “Could you keep this to yourself?”

“If you want me to, sure.”

“Thank you, Tooru.”

“Not to mention.” Oikawa says absentmindedly. “That’s why I’m here.”  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
“Gabriel Chase, everyone.” Ukai yells into the microphone while Oikawa leaves the stage. The loud cheering follow him until he reaches the dressing room.

“Nicely done.” Seth compliments him and spanks his butt jokingly.

“Hey hey.” Oikawa blinks. “Watch out your hands. I think those are only meant to spank your girlfriend’s sweet ass.”

Seth laughs aloud. “Damn right.” As he adds. “But for now I better go and spank others.”

“Rock out.” Oikawa hums and takes out the cash and sings; _“Money money money, must be funny, in the rich man's world.”_

 _Not for much longer and I’m out. I’m free to go. I can’t wait any longer.”_ Oikawa thinks and undresses himself happily before he walks back into the bouncing club.

He lets himself fall on one of the empty seats at the bar and orders his favourite drink – dirty Vegas – as he sighs pleasantly. _I’m gonna book my tickets soon. Soon. S.O.O.N._

Before the drink turns up, he feels a strong wall of muscles being pressed against his back, yet sensitively, with arms on either side of him on the counter, trapping Oikawa.

“Hello again… long time no see.” A low voice whispering now right into Oikawa’s ear, sending him chills down his spine.

Oikawa feels a playful smile making its way onto his lips as he says: “Did you miss me?”

“What if I say; yes?” The low voice asks, causing the hair on Oikawa’s neck stand up.

“What if I say; no?” Oikawa replies, trying to sound stable enough although it does not completely work out as he wishes. The other voice laughs shortly.

“Nice try.”

“Mean, Tetsu-chan, mean.” Oikawa pouts dramatically.

“So you did miss me.” Kuroo says delightful, his hips delicately rolling with the rhythm of the music against his hipbone.

As Watari puts the drink in front of him, Oikawa takes it and turns to face Kuroo. He gulps nervously as he sees Kuroo’s thin top, offering the best possible view of his toned chest. Oikawa secretly hopes that he is not drooling.

Kuroo, however, appears as if he is genuinely enjoying his effect on Oikawa. A huge grin plasters his face and Oikawa can see every single teeth. They are fascinatingly white.

“So?” Kuroo says. “Are we just standing here and sharing a moment of silence?”

Oikawa clears his throat. “Aw, Tetsu-chan, you’re being impatient yet again.”

“Impatient?” Kuroo laughs. “Me?”

“Yes. You.”

“Actually, no. I just enjoy the fact that you missed me.” Kuroo says, his tone fully intoxicating and leaving Oikawa flustered. He then just smiles and sticks out his tongue, unable to say something.

“When you’re done with your drink, how ‘bout a little dance?” Kuroo asks, lessening the space between them.

“You’ll only be teasing me.” Oikawa pouts. “That’s not fair.”

“But I know deep,” Kuroo’s right index finger runs slowly over Oikawa skin and stops at his chest. His heart is pounding hard against the rib cage and Kuroo has assuredly noticed it, “ _deep_ down you like it.”

Oikawa gulps. His hands are trembling as he empties his glass and puts it on the counter. “What are we waiting for then? Let’s go.”

Kuroo takes a step aside and bows. “After you.”

Voice 1: _Make sure he kisses you this time._

Voice 2: _Make him all wild and fuzzy and..._

Voice 1: _crazy?_

Voice 2: _excellent idea._

Voice 1: _not to mention._

Oikawa’s voice: _Get out of my head._

Voice 1 & 2: _We’ll keep an eye on you._

But as hard as Oikawa tries to provoke Kuroo into a kiss, Kuroo is just like a mirror. He returns all the provocations and leaves Oikawa nearly breathless, while his loose clothes stick to his skin. No kiss, not even brushing lips. _None of it._

 _Goddamn it._ He thinks. _He’s too good._

And as if Kuroo could read his mind, his shit-eating grin widens as he licks his upper lip sensually.

“You’re so mean, Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa hisses, his hands rolling slowly down the other’s spine.

“Am I?” Kuroo grins. “What makes you believe this?”

“You’re entire personality.” Oikawa snorts, teasing Kuroo’s butt with his fingers.

“But now you’re the mean one, aren’t you?” Kuroo whispers into Oikawa ears, his big strong hands on his hips.

Oikawa shivers. “No, I’m the friendliness in person.”“I can see that.” Kuroo smirks.

Voice 1: _How can he see that?_

Voice 2: _Dude… do you see he’s got two eyes?_

Voice 1: _yes… and?_

Voice 2: _There’s something called “flirting”._

Voice 1: _Ah, I see._

Voice 2: _how can you be so unbelievably innocent?_

Oikawa’s voice: _Guys… silence._

Voice 1 & 2: _ok._

“Anyway… let’s go for another drink.” Kuroo suggests. “I need a little break.”

“Glad you think so, too.” Oikawa says. “I actually need to go for little aliens.”

“For little… what?” Kuroo frowns before he ends up laughing out loud. “Then… have fun with your little alien.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows knit together: “That sounds now rather…”

Kuroo grin widens even more as he takes the empty spot at the bar and sends him off to the washrooms. Oikawa makes his way through the crowd and sums happily as he enters the washroom. No one is there.

After he is done with his business, he walks up to the sinks, washes his hands and checks his hair again as he sees someone standing right behind him. The tall man seems to be watching him for a while now as Oikawa finally recognizes him.

There is something in the stranger’s glare that Oikawa does not like. All of a sudden, he feels wholly unwell. The other man lessens the space between them with huge steps before Oikawa even manages to think of an escape.

“Hey hot chick.” The other slurs. He is drunken. “I like your ass.”

“Well, thanks.” Oikawa says clamly while slowly backing up towards the door.

Faster than Oikawa manages to blink, he is tapped between the man’s arms. But then he raises his right arm and runs his finger over Oikawa loose shirt and bare chest. He hums aroused and Oikawa can read his eyes like a book. They are filled with lust and desire.

“If I were you I wouldn’t touch me.” Oikawa hears himself saying, in a surprisingly stable tone. This is not the first time something like this happens. Every now and then some strange guy oversteps the invisible line and usually one could just call attention to it loudly and they would immediately stop.

_Usually._

But Oikawa feels this would not work here. And since they are all alone in the washroom at 02:30 a.m. and only few men use this washroom anyway since it is the smaller one, Oikawa doubts that anyone would come and help him out.

Oikawa slowly back up towards the toilets this time, as the man says: “And why?”

“Because I’m going to call the police otherwise.”

The man begins to laugh. Loud and rough and the echo sounds throughout the entire room.

“Do you think the cops will believe _you?_ You’re just a slut.”

“No, I’m not. “ Oikawa tries to escape, but the man’s reflexes are stunningly fast. He catches his arms and pushes him violently back. Oikawa loses hit footing and falls against the door which flings open. With his back he hits the toilets.

Pain explodes in his back and Oikawa screams, hearing its echo back at him in the washroom. He sees only stars as the man leans menacingly over him: “Do you really think I wouldn’t know my business?”

Oikawa cries and the stranger pulls out his erection while three fingers press down Oikawa’s tongue. He is gasping for air around the strong fingers.

“Take it you slut,” the rough voice from above him commands. Oikawa has half a mind to bite at the intruder’s fingers, but he can’t find the strength to do so. His back hurts painfully but he still tries in vain to escape.

“Please.” He whines, but the man seems to genuinely enjoy the sight he has. “Blame yourself for being so hot.”

Another scream, another desperate cry.

“Shut up, shut up,” the voice chants as the pain in Oikawa’s back slowly intensifies. His head begins to throb.

“You like it?” The man says flustered.

“Tooru?”

Kuroo’s familiar voice wafts into the room.

Oikawa whimpers around the cock that currently fills his mouth, tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. Kuroo slams the door open and their eyes lock for the split of a second. A strange yet overwhelming need to go and hug this mean overcomes Oikawa who tries to pull away again from the stranger in front of him. The other male’s strong fingers tangle in his hair and shove him roughly back down. Oikawa chokes as the tip of the stranger’s erection rubs against the back of his throat, but he is not let up to breathe.

“Get your own slut to fuck,” He hears the other male say as he shallowly thrusts into OIkawa’s mouth, “We’re busy here.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do and what not?!” Kuroo growls dangerously, gripping the man’s shoulder and – although a bit smaller than the stranger - literally throwing him all over the room as if he is just a light notebook.

Someone else enters the room and hurries over to Oikawa – Watari. “What the fuck is happening here?” He hisses, kneeling in front of Oikawa now.

But Kuroo’s angry voice fills the entire room now as he speaks again.

“First: never ever in your life lay a hand on him again you asshole.”

The muffled sound of a rough punch sounds throughout the room. Blood spurts over the ground.

“Second: never ever call him a slut.” Punch. “Besides, show him some respect. All kind of sex workers deserve the equal respect whether they are strippers, porn actors, prostitutes or whatever, you fucking bastard.”

Another punch. The man squeaks in pain.

“And finally.” Kuroo’s voice is a dangerous whisper by now. “Make sure we’ll never ever see you’re fucking face again or I can’t guarantee for anything else.”

Final punch and the man collapse on the ground.

“You,” Kuroo looks at Watari, his eyes filled with pure anger. “Get the bouncers. We gotta take out the trash.”

Watari nods, looks at Oikawa for a single moment and leaves the room in a rush. Less than a minute later, two strong men, followed by Watari, enter the room and take the collapsed with them.

Kuroo walks over and kneels in front of the violently shivering Oikawa. Watari remains under the door frame.

“Tooru.” Kuroo says softly.

But Oikawa leans forward, forgetting the pain in his back, and sobs audibly into Kuroo’s shoulder.

 _“I’m here.”_ Kuroo whispers and makes soothing sounds, a hand runs up and down his spine. After a while, as the pitiful sobs die down, Kuroo says: “Come, I’ll bring you home.”

“Wait,” Watari says. “He said he hurt his back.”

Then door flings open again and Ukai enters the washroom. Kunimi and Seth follow.

“What happened here?” Ukai demands aloud and Watari quickly tells him the story. Ukai growls pissed and looks down at Oikawa. “I want him to have his back checked. Bring him into the dressing room and call Josh. Seth, you go and report this incident to the cobs immediately. The bouncers have checked the stranger’s wallet so we know his name. Kunimi, bring him his clothes to the dressing room as well. And you,” Ukai taps on Kuroo’s shoulder, “would you step aside now?”

“No.” Oikawa whimpers and tightens his grasp around Kuroo’s neck.

“I think it’d be best if he helps Oikawa to get into the dressing room.” Watari suggests.

Ukai growls and nods then. “Ok. Let’s get this done.”

Kunimi and Seth leave the room swiftly and Ukai follows them.

“Come.” Kuroo says. “You need to get up now.”

“Wait, I can help.” Watari offers.

Together, they manage to bring Oikawa back on his feet and all three of them walk down another corridor and enter the dressing room. Josh and Kunimi are already waiting.

“Let him take a seat here.” Josh says. “Tooru, you need to take your shirt off.”

Oikawa nods and does what he is told to. And while his back is being checked, he notices Kuroo’s wounded hands. “Tetsu-chan. You’re hands…”

“They’re fine.” Kuroo says, kneeling down in front of him. “That’ll heal and be gone soon.”

Ukai enters the room and frowns. “No guest are actually allowed to be in this room.”

“Think of an exception.” Watari says swiftly. “He saved your precious diamond from being almost abused.”

Ukai sighs. “Right then. Josh.”

“Hm, I think his back is alright. A light bruise that’ll hurt one or two days. But it’s nothing too dangerous.” Josh explains and gets up. “Give him two days off.”

“No.” Oikawa exclaims. “I can work. I don’t need any days off.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Ok.” Ukai speaks up. “But you won’t be dancing. You’ll be working at the bar with Watari.”

Oikawa nods while Kuroo helps him gently to get into his clothes.

“I’ll bring him home.” Kuroo says. A weak smile flushes over Oikawa face as Kunimi hands him his coat over. “Do you need any help?” Kunimi asks worried.

“It’s ok.” Kuroo says and walks towards the door as he adds. “I go and get my car. If you mind waiting with him here.”

“No, I don’t.” Kunimi says.

Ukai lights another cigarette. “So much drama for one night. Anyway, go and rest your back now.” Without another word, the owner leaves the room. Josh and Watari nod silently and follow their boss, while Kunimi remains in the room.

“Tooru.” Kunimi asks.

“Hm.”

“Are you really alright?”

Oikawa closes his eyes for a moment. It is very odd. It is the first time since he has been working in PR’s that such an incident happened to him. And even though he feared, he feels strangely well – besides the pain in his back.

Kuroo. Kuroo came to safe him. Kuroo was there right in time. He helped him without worrying about his own safety.

“Yes.” Oikawa says and smiles slightly. “I really am.”

About ten minutes later, Kuroo’s arrives at the back of the club with his car. Kunimi helps Oikawa – yet again – into someone else’s car. “See you tomo- well, later.”

“See you later.” Oikawa says exhausted. “Thanks sweetboy.”

As they are driving, Kuroo begins to ask several questions: “Is this the first time that something like this happened?”

Oikawa hesitates. Ushijima was different. Though his mind refused to believe (it still does not) the moment and the following action, his body oddly wanted it to happen. So…

“Yes.”

“I’m glad I came in just in time.” Kuroo says and adds embittered. “But still too late.”

“No.” Oikawa replies. “Don’t blame yourself. I mean… look at your hands. You’re the hero of the day, Tetsu-chan.”

The other growls first but then his lips part and form a smile. “If that is what you think.”

“Yes. Yes. And Yes again.” Oikawa says but frowns. “Why did you come anyways?”

“You were gone for quite a while and I started to wonder what you might have been up to.”

“So… you were worried.”

Silence.

Oikawa can see the tip of Kuroo’s ear slightly turning red. He chuckles but remains quiet. The red ears speak the best language which is why he does not need it to be spoken.

Later, as they arrive at the address Oikawa has given, Kuroo stops his car. The remain in silence for a while as Oikawa finally says: “Thank you, Tetsu-c… _Tetsurou_.”

“It’s ok.” Kuroo says and smiles.

“No really, I’m so grateful that you came and helped me. Thank you so much.” Oikawa says, touching the other male’s shoulder. “I’d love to treat you.”

“Coffee does it.” Kuroo shrugs.

But Oikawa has a better idea and so he says. “No, not coffee. That’s too lame, Tetsu-chan.”

Kuroo laughs. “Then tea?”

Oikawa snorts. “No tea either.”

“What then?”

Oikawa, though his back cries in pain, lessens the space between them and says: “Let me dance for you. _Only for you_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to a reader I was able to put into words what I actually think of Strippers. And express this now via Kuroo... Don't think of Strippers or all sex workers as sluts or whore's. They truly deserve the same amount of respect. I think it's definitely wrong how we're being told to think of strippers. 
> 
> Poor Oikawa though...


	11. Nasty naughty (Kuroo)boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re nervous.” Watari chuckles.  
> “I’m not.” Oikawa replies and snorts. “I’m a perfectionist.”   
> “And even perfectionists can be nervous, y’know.” Watari says and rolls his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to offer some critique :)
> 
> 11 chapters! Wow... I can't believe it because we're not even close to the main arc of the story nor have we figured Oikawa's dream yet. But I hope it's still interesting and won't get boring or so...^^

“Flowers for Oikawa Tooru.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. He is attempted to shut the door right now – but it would be quite unfair to the poor postman. Besides, he looks nice. Seriously. Different than many postmen actually. Tall, nice body shape, interesting eyes – but such a boring atmosphere surrounds him.

And so, Oikawa simply accepts the flowers – white roses – signs and closes the door as he begins to ascend the stairs up to his shared apartment.

_Oh god… why? Ushiwaka is a menace. And yet… it’s actually quite impressive that he keeps doing what he said. But for how long?_

He chuckles and enters the apartment. “Iwa-chan.” He sings. “I’ve got you some-“

“Ou please.” Iwaizumi yells back. “I know _exactly_ that it’s something I won’t like.”

“MEAN!” Oikawa exclaims. “I’ve got you something that will show you how much I love you.”

“Ou god, no.” The other whines as Oikawa enters his bedroom.

“Flowers.” Iwaizumi says deadpan.

“Yes.”

“And you got them?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Yes.”

“Liar.” Iwaizumi snorts.

“Why?” Oikawa asks innocently.

“Because I can read the letters written on the card that hangs right there.”

“Tsk.” Oikawa hisses. “Damn.”

Iwaizumi laughs. “I’m not that stupid. Why do you want to give them to me anyways?”

“I don’t want them?”

“And because?”

“ _Because_ I don’t like the guy who’s behind all this.” Oikawa clarifies.

“Then tell him to stop.” Iwaizumi suggests.

“He won’t. Even if I threaten him to death –“

“Poor man.” Iwaizumi mumbles.

“ – he wouldn’t stop.”

“I don’t understand you.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “You like to be in the spotlight and yet you hate it when a man sends you flowers.”

“It’s different.”

“What’s the difference?” Iwaizumi demands.

“The difference is the difference.” Oikawa says mysteriously.

Iwaizumi frowns. “That’s by far the stupidest thing I’ve heard within a week.”

“How rude.” Oikawa says. “It’s very meaningful and –“

“- full of trash.” Iwaizumi finishes the sentence and ignores the snort coming from Oikawa as he continues. “What will you do with them?”

“Maybe Mattsun likes flowers, too?”

“God, Oikawa. Keep them.” Iwaizumi stands up, takes the flowers and walks into the kitchen. “Don’t be such an asshole.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No food for you if you keep doing this.”

“N- mean!” Oikawa exhales.

Iwaizumi fills a vase with water as Oikawa fishes out his cell phone, unlocks it and types out a text.

 

_Oizumahaya <3 <3 <3 <3_

   
 _Iwa-chan is such a meanie :’( _{  
February 20th, 20..; 7:51 p.m.}__

 

_Mattsun: Isn’t he cooking for you?  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:52 p.m.}__

 

_Makki: Or is he refusing to do your laundry again?  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:52 p.m.}__

 

_Mattsun: How about cleaning?  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:53 p.m.}__

 

_Makki: good point there…  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:53 p.m.}__

 

_Iwa-chan isn’t accepting my gift :’(  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:54 p.m.}__

 

_Makki: Maybe said man doesn’t like gifts?  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:55 p.m.}__

 

Iwa-cha: OR SAID MAN IS JUST ANNOYED TO HELL?!?!   
_{February 20 th, 20..; 7:55 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: Surprise… … ...  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:55 p.m.}__

 

_Makki: … … … … … … … …  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:56 p.m.}__

 

_Hey?! Why is none supporting me? :’(  
 _{February 20 th, 20..; 7:56 p.m.}__

 

Iwa-cha: Serious question?!?!   
_{February 20 th, 20..; 7:57 p.m.}_

 

“Hey, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa snorts. “Don’t be so mean.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Get out of the kitchen. I’m gonna cook dinner now.”

“You’re the best!” Oikawa hoots happily and leaves immediately.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
The following day, Oikawa thinks a lot about the upcoming private dance for Kuroo, his savior. And while thinking, Kuroo’s voice creeps smoothly into his head. Within Oikawa’s mind his voice keeps creeping up as if it is a pesky bug that does not wish to let him get away. He keeps pushing the idea lower and lower from the root of his thoughts but suddenly his voice changes. It is no longer like a bug but now more like a blossoming butterfly that flutters to his ear. It changes drastically but he cannot help but enjoy the feeling of his voice.

A voice so exciting, so inviting.

“Tsk.” Oikawa snorts as he shakes his head to get of said voice. “No time for love, Oikawa.” He reminds himself loudly. “Two month and you’re out anyways. Do the dance and then…”

Yes, what then? Keep in touch? Text him occasionally? Or avoid him?

Oikawa crosses his arms and leans against the wall of his bedroom. _What should I do? What’s best?_ _After all I’m just a stripper. And he has only eyes for my body… yes, I think he has only eyes for my body. But if that is the case, why is he being then so nice to me? He could just… just…_

Kuroo has not kissed him. Their lips were not interlocked. They only brushed so lightly against each other that Oikawa is not in the position to tell how the other’s lips taste or feel.

Kuroo has not made any attempt to have sex with him. He might be interested, yes, but Oikawa has not had this feeling while they were dancing or chatting in the club the nights they met.

Kuroo teased him, _provoked_ him – but nothing more.

_Maybe it’s only my imagination. Maybe he isn’t interested in me – well, just for having some fun. But not… seriously. And yet he came to help me. He saved me. And he stayed with me and drove me home. And he accepted my offer._

Oikawa sighs. _God, I don’t understand this man._ His eyes wander around and he sees the white roses standing on the floor beside his nightstand. _While I understand the other man good enough to tell that he as a crush on me… damn… First he fucks me against the wall, then he feels sorry about and now even develops a crush on me. Cool. Great. Wonderful._

About an hour later, he leaves the apartment.

Oikawa has booked room no. 1 (the best room) for his private show. And he has asked Kunimi and Watari to perform as well.

“I want to do something nice, y’know.” He sings as he puts on his light make-up. “Nice and sexy and…”

“Hot?” Kunimi suggests.

“Maybe.” Oikawa hums.

“You’re nervous.” Watari chuckles.

“I’m not.” Oikawa replies and snorts. “I’m a perfectionist.”

“And even perfectionists can be nervous, y’know.” Watari says and rolls his eyes.

“Whatever.” Oikawa pouts. “Go and get dressed. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Tooru… it’s 10:30. And you said we’ll be preforming at 11.00.” Watari says. “Chill. No need for rush here.”

“Go and get dressed.” Oikawa says harsher than intended. “Same goes for you, Sweetboy.”

“Alright, _captain.”_ Watari sighs. “Come, we better do what he demands.”

“I’m not demanding.”

“But not asking either.” Watari comments sharply and follows Kunimi out of his sight.

Oikawa stops and watches his own reflection. His hands are trembling a bit. “Be a star. Be the star you are.” He mumbles as he put on his mask.

Ten minutes before elven, Kunimi and Watari enter the room, while Oikawa waits behind a curtain as he hears Kuroo enter. Oikawa could hear the soft, gentle steps the man leaves on the ground. His heart is pounding hard and fast.

A minute later, Kunimi comes behind the curtain and whispers. “His eyes are bandaged as you wanted them to be.”

“Goodie.” He says curtly and gulps hard.

“Is there something else that need to be done?” Kunimi says calmly, obviously trying to calm Oikawa down.

“No. Both of you know the steps we do, right?”

“Yes, we talked about it.”

“And you know when you gotta leave?”

“We know.”

“Goodie.” Oikawa gulps again.

“Ahm.. Tooru…” Kunimi hesitates.

“Yes?”

“You can come forth now. His eyes are bandaged.”

“Ou… yes, right.”

Oikawa takes a deep, shaky breath and the curtain rolls back. And there he sits, in a dimmed, deep red room, wearing thin clothes, his hair a mess. Kuroo Tetsurou’s eyes are bandaged and he leans on the couch, waiting for the show to start. Even from this distance Oikawa can see the nervous excitement that dwells just under the surface of his skin.

One minute to go and Oikawa tiptoes towards Kuroo.

Forty seconds.

Oikawa pants. His hand cover his mouth in order to muffle the sound of escaping air. He doesn’t want to betray himself to Kuroo.

Twenty seconds.

Oikawa palms are wet and even though he is barely dressed, he feels hot and the clothes heavy.

Ten seconds.

His heart is hammering against his rib cage.

Five seconds.

Oikawa blinks and Watari nods.

Three seconds.

Oikawa leans over Kuroo, his mouth right next to his ear.

Two… one…

The music start and Oikawa, his voice low and husky, sings sensually:  
  


_Y'all haters corny with that Illuminati mess_  
_Paparazzi, catch my fly and my cocky fresh_  
_I'm so reckless when I rock my Givenchy dress… (stylin')_  
_I'm so possessive so I rock his Roc necklaces_   
  


Oikawa genuinely enjoys the sight he has as he leans back. Heat shoots straight through Kuroo’s body and he lets out a shivering breath.

Oikawa flicks and Watari and Kunimi come over while he walks towards the center of the room and sits down on a black chair.

__  
Okay, okay, boys, now let's get in Formation,  
_Okay, boys, now let's get in formation,_  
_Prove to me you got some coordination, cause I slay_  
_Slay trick, or you get eliminated_   
  


Kunimi and Watari take off the bandage and Kuroo sees Oikawa sitting on the chair – but he only sees his back for now.

Nasty naughty boy by Christina Aguilera starts playing as Oikawa’s hands slid down on either side while Kunimi and Watari slowly disappear in the darkness of the room. Oikawa rolls his eyes slowly to the side, closing his eyes in pure satisfaction whereas Kuroo breath hitches.

And if Kuroo was not aroused before, he certainly is now. Oikawa opens his performance on the chair, using the object in unimaginable seductive ways before he finally turns and faces Kuroo. He spreads his legs a little, allowing Kuroo to watch his toned thighs flexing and reacting.

Oikawa then walks towards the pole and before he flashes a seductive smirk in Kuroo’s direction, his hand reach out to grab the pole and he pulls himself up. Kuroo’s eyes follow him observantly while each action is being cherished, each movement is being appreciated, and each smirk is being returned.

Oikawa slowly slides down while his bare chest is touching the iron gently.

The room is steaming hot. Kuroo is fully aroused by Oikawa’s sensual movements, his seductive smirk, and his rolling hips. And as he slowly dips down and opens one of the buttons, the other male catches his breath promptly while his nails dig into the leather of the couch.

Oikawa releases the pole from his grip and lessens the space between him and Kuroo. He feels his heart speeding up yet again while his heartbeat is hammering in his eardrums along with the slow beats of the music flowing from the speakers.

Before he is able to touch Kuroo, he opens the last button of his shirt and sits onto Kuroo’s legs. His hips rolling, his hands wandering along the strong arms. He turns again and Kuroo faces now his back.

Oikawa closes his eyes for a moment, feeling now more than ever how Kuroo’s warmth permeates through his clothes, into his skin. Oikawa continues to roll his hips slowly, as he feels a powerful tingle running up his spine.

“Take off my shirt.” He demands husky.

And Kuroo does what he is told to and Oikawa feels his strong hands on his shoulders. He shivers under the heated touch and as Kuroo slowly strips him naked, he feels heat shooting straight down between his own legs.

He turns again, taking Kuroo’s hands and guides them with his own over his bare, heaving chest while his hips are still rolling delicately.

“You’re unimaginable beautiful.” Kuroo whispers suddenly.

Oikawa blinks down at him, his ears turning an even deeper shade of red as his mouth falls open in surprise. He hesitates for the space of a few breaths. _What am I supposed to say?_

The loud music seems now muffled to his ears, and yet – right after receiving such a compliment from Kuroo – Oikawa feels his skin vibrating harder than it had when he has first stepped into this atmosphere and started his performance. An overwheling, breathtaking feeling of exhilaration, thrill and desire flows into his veins in the form of adrenaline. A pleasant warmth feeling begins to course under his skin, causing a revolving feeling of electric shots.

Oikawa sees Kuroo lips before their eyes interlock.

Voice 1: _Kiss!_

Voice 2: _KISS!_

But Oikawa makes no movement, no attempt to lessen the space between their lips. And neither does Kuroo.

And yet it feels as if the world around Kuroo and himself has faded into nothingness, leaving only the both of them along with each and every possible sensation that could be experienced by the human body. Sensations so rewarding that it mingles with their blood and slips under their skin. So rewarding that it blossoms without any further attempt. And rather than a price to pay it has already become a very sweet sin.

Oikawa swallows hard as his own hands slides once again over Kuroo’s torso. Every curve is a thing of sheer unbelievable beauty and Oikawa feels incredibly lucky – _aroused -_ to be able to feel such a rewarding moment.

_Holy mama, Kuroo Tetsurou is… sexy as hell! Nasty boy, yet dangerously seducing in a sense of an untamed fierceness. Smart and strong… A strength that wants to be released… a strength not everyone gets to see… but me…_

_The rhythm of the music guides either of them to the climax of the performance. Oikawa can feel_ Kuroo’s hard crotch as he presses his perfect bottom smoothly to the beat against it. It takes all his willpower to not strip him fully naked and letting him pleased in ways unimaginable – in ways he has never experienced nor witnessed before.

Kuroo lets himself be guided by Oikawa’s body movement as he presses his torso flush to Oikawa’s back. And then Oikawa notices it. He feels Kuroo’s own heart pumping hard against his chest.

Once the song ends, the room falls silent.

For long moments, Oikawa and Kuroo only manage to breathe. Warm air coming through Kuroo’s lips and softly brushes Oikawa’s neck. Both of them are damp with sweat.

“Thank you.” Kuroo whispers into Oikawa’s ear, making the hair on his neck stand up.

He only nods and as he tries to stand up, Kuroo strong grip around his torso hold him in place. Silently, he remains in Kuroo’s lap for a while.

“Can I ask you something?” Kuroo speaks up again, his mouth near his ear.

“Go ahead.”

“I know, maybe you’ve heard that many times before but… want to go out sometime?” Kuroo asks gently as if he is assuming he gets turned down anyways.

_Want to go out sometime?_

These words sound through his head several time, causing his body to vibrate as he finally finds his own voice to speak again: “I… I’d love.”

“Really?”

Oikawa pulls away successfully and turns to face Kuroo. “Yes, Tetsu-chan. Really.”

Their eyes interlock and the room falls silent again as Kuroo after a while clears his throat: “Well, then… let me text you. Maybe this weekend?”

“Yes… please.” Oikawa says, strangely exhausted.

“Alright.”

But neither of them take their eyes off in attempt to leave the room or something else.

Voice 1: _Hello?_

Voice 2: _Hello…_

Voice 1 _: … from the other side…._

Voice 2: _… I must’ve called a thousand times…_

Oikawa’s voice: _silence!_

Oikawa coughs lightly. “I think I need to go now. Back to work, you know.”

“Yes, of course.” Kuroo slowly stands up. “I wish you a good night.”

“Good night, Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa tries to blink but somehow fails. And so he only smiles as the other male leaves the room and the door snaps.

For a second, Oikawa is tempted to run after Kuroo, to take matters in his own hand and press his lips onto Kuroo’s. He wants to kiss him, so badly. He wants to taste his mouth and feel his touch.

But not now.

Now he takes his stuff along and leaves the room before he turns the light off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: Beyonce - Formation & Christina Aguilera - Nasty Naughty Boy
> 
> I'd pay to have such a private moment in my life...


	12. Run away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa remains silent for a moment as he then throws his arms around Kuroo and pulls himself closer. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”  
> “Not to mention.” He hears Kuroo’s mumbling voice next to his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any kind of critique is welcomed. 
> 
> Please see at the end for further details...

“I always knew that one day… one day I’d be ready to run. To run away from the things I never liked. From the things that I never could call mine. Because I never wanted it. Never. Not once…”  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
Oikawa arrives in front of the train station about half an hour earlier than they have planned. He is exhausted, not having been able to sleep well last night (he kept thinking about their date), and then waking up early just so that he could be able to have enough time to get ready (although he almost slept in eventually).

But for now, he sits on the bench and waits while passing people either glimpse at him or ignore him. Needless to say that those who glimpse at him are stunned by his appearance and his presence. Oikawa on the other side pays not much attention to it.

He feels like being in a whole different universe right now. Everything feels a bit blurry. It has been years now since his last date (a boy from school but the date ended up to be quite a miserable experience for both sides and they have never seen each other ever since). He looks down to check his outfit but feels wholly unable to decide whether it was a good choice to go out like this or not. His date had asked him to be casual since he wants him to meet outside of the club.

And so Oikawa tried to be casual which is why he is wearing some… pants… a v-neck sweater… his brown coat… shoes… that kind of stuff. But somehow he still believes he is overdressed. And of course he broke one of the rules; he has some make up. Because he only wants Kuroo not to be worried about his lack of sleep. And so his eye bags, after a soft foundation, are simply vanished.

He checks his phone every other minute (still fifteen minutes to go) while his stomach begins to get tied in knots. But Oikawa Tooru would not be Oikawa Tooru if he could not handle this: he keeps his composure and tries to look as calm as possible.

His confidence slowly returns after a new wave of nervousness when he thinks about with whom he would spend the day with. He considers himself as lucky to have a date with the man who saved him. The man who makes his mind all fuzzy. The man who wants to see _him_ without any make-up, far away from _Purple Rain._

But said man seems to be running late.

Oikawa snorts. _When I danced for him, he wasn’t late._ He is beginning to get impatient, his nerves starting to rattle within him as he nervously gets off the bench and walks around in circles. He checks his phone almost every ten seconds but there has been no new message from his date. He sighs. _Hopefully he is alright…_

Five minutes later (his date is running late for ten minutes now), he is about to complain as he spots the man he has been waiting for. And… OH GOD!

His heart jumped almost out of his chest as he sees the approaching man before it multiplies its speed. His nerves are out of control now and shake him, causing his hands to tremble. His jaw is perhaps somewhere on the floor, and surely anybody could tell that Oikawa is staring a little too wide eyed – even for his own liking.

And yet he did not expect his date to dress so well. _For him._ Oikawa thinks of his own clothes he is wearing and rather than overdressed he feels under dressed now. His date looks good. He looks _oh father who art in heaven_ good!

Mixed in the colours red and black, his date is both: casual and fancy. Oikawa begins to wonder how this man would be like if he really dresses himself up. He feels shots of electricity rushing through his entire body.

“Hi Tooru, sorry for being late. I was going to text you but the trains were terrible and I couldn’t really text you.” Kuroo says with a soft smile on his lips as he approaches him. “But I’m so glad you stayed and waited.”

“Of course, Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa says, trying to speak in a stable tone. “I… uhm… just arrived.”

“Oh, good.” Kuroo replies. “Well, I was going to bring you something but I thought it’s kinda cheeky and I didn’t know if you’d like it. So, yeah, I might give you something today.”

Oikawa smiles, and he feels himself calming down once again as his usual voice tone returns. “I do hope so, Tetsu-chan. You need something that makes up for you being late, y’know.” He says cheeky and sticks out his tongue teasingly.

Kuroo grins back. “Alright. I will try my best.”

“I hope you will.” Oikawa comments playfully.

“But anyway, we better go now.” Kuroo says and tilts his head to the side like an owl. “We have _kind of_ a date now. Let’s get this started.”

“Kind of?” Oikawa pouts. “Mean, Tetsu-chan. Am I not good enough for you to be your date?”

“You’re the best, you nerd.” Kuroo says snickering.

“I’m not a nerd either.” Oikawa rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Come on now,” Kuroo grips Oikawa wrist. “Nerd.”

Oikawa snorts though he feels a smile playing its way onto his lips as he follows Kuroo out of the station.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
For some reason, Oikawa started to guide Kuroo around Tokyo – as if the other would not know the city. For an outsider, however, this guide looks like someone who drags his date into various places Kuroo would likely never go himself. But Kuroo is not complaining. Not in the least. They both wanted this date to happen. They both wanted to be around one another.

And to keep things fair, Oikawa lets himself be guided to some other place he would likely never go by himself either. Fair. And wherever they go, Oikawa does not miss an opportunity to show his date how talented and skilled he actually is, besides being a dancer. He is a skilled photographer, too, for example.

But that is not Oikawa’s secret plan – or hope. Besides being with Kuroo on a date NOW, he is hoping for another date.

But Oikawa knows already what he is going to write in his diary tonight. He even knows what kind of words he will use to fully express the feelings he is having right now:  
  


_What a wonderful day this was! ^-^_

_Tetsu-chan looked so immensely good and I saw many people turning around for a second glimpse at him. Though he didn’t seem to notice this. Which makes it even cuter *blushing*. ;P_

_Well, I might’ve dragged him into a lot of stuff he wasn’t aware they actually existed in Tokyo… he’s so laid-back. And yet, he’s so calm and relaxed… *-* It feels so good being around him._

_We stopped by some stalls, where I bought some cute little alien figures… they’re so cute. (Though Tetsu-chan called me a nerd… such a meanie :x ). And then a showed him another lovely place where we got some hot chocolate - that was absolutely amazing! Thanks to Iwa-chan (what a cutie ^-^) I got to know this place and I told Tetsu-chan nothing about how I figured the location of this place. There’s actually a pretty good quote that practically says everything: If you’re going to hide a leaf, hide it in a forest, right? When there’s no forest, you can make one yourself. *smart chuckle*_

_Awwww… and Tetsu-chan was such a cutie when he helped some elderly tourists. <3<3 It was just nice to see how nice he is… so nice. SOOOOOO NICE!! _ _゜ﾟ･_ _*:._ _｡_ _.._ _｡_ _.:*_ _･_ _'(*_ _ﾟ▽ﾟ_ _*)'_ _･_ _*:._ _｡_ _. ._ _｡_ _.:*_ _･゜ﾟ･_ _*_

_Although we definitely need to do something about his bedhead hair… because that’s mostly the reason why people are afraid to talk to him ^-^_

_But… when I think about it… I like it actually. Because his hair is soooo fluffy. It feels like I’m stroking a cat. <3_

_After we went to the Colour Fish Aquarium (OMG that was amazing! *-* ) we just had to go for some cake and tea in the store nearby. LOL, and there was this lady who gave us this big smile like she knew what’s going on. I wonder what she might’ve thought… maybe she was jealous, too ^^_

_And Tetsu-chan was very patient and soft with me, though there were a few times that he had a snarky comment :o… but they were fine. Not so mean. It was kinda endearing tbh …_

_Ewww… I sound like a teenager again. All “OMG-he-is-so-cute-because-he-just-is-cute”. -.-_

_I mean… that’s not the point. Tetsu-chan is a cutie - - but a hot mess as well. Like, he mirrors all the teasing’s and provocations I do and doubles them. He’s just too good at mind-games and stuff. Smart ass! (but his ass is really…. Raawwrrr…!! HOLY MAMA!)_

_That was the best date I’ve ever been to. And not because of the stuff I’ve mentioned already. More because of something else that happened as we were in the restaurant…_   
  


Rolling his eyes, Oikawa bite his bottom lip in an attempt to stop smiling. It does not work: Kuroo just makes him laugh all the time. He makes Oikawa happy, content to be exactly where he is right now. And that is for sure quite an amazing feat.

“Stop laughing, you nerd.” A grin appeares on Kuroo’s face.

“How rude you are.” Oikawa pouts, softly punching at his arm.

“No, not rude. Just honest.”

“Mean.” Oikawa snorts. “I can’t believe how I can spend my precious time with a meanie such as you are.”

Kuroo laughs. “I can’t believe it either.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and a second later he finds himself cuddling Kuroo’s arm. “No no, I like the time we share, Tetsu-chan.” His chin rests on Kuroo’s shoulder now. “I’m hungry…”

“So am I.” Kuroo says, turning his head to side to face Oikawa.

Their heads are close. And so are their lips. They could feel the warm breath on each other’s face. They remain silent for a while, their eyes interlocked. Oikawa feels his heart speed up yet again and he pulls away before Kuroo notices his cheeks turning into a deep shade of red.

“Then let’s go now.”

“I know a nice place to go.” Kuroo says, coughs and takes the lead.

Oikawa follows, rather awkwardly and they remain quiet until they arrive at the restaurant. He does not know this place which is why he follows Kuroo excitedly inside.

The restaurant has a soothing atmosphere, dimly lit but more in a comfortable soft lighting – so they would not have to use flashlights to find their food or drinks (or hands). Conversations are hushed, and the overhead music is a soft jazz-blues. Oikawa has already been to these types of restaurant that hold such an atmospheres and he usually likes it.

As the waiter turns up, they order their food and some wine (since Oikawa insisted to have some wine because he strongly believes he would not make it otherwise through the rest of the day without any alcoholic supporting) and remain silent for a moment.  
  


_… wait, no. I happened AFTER the restaurant. ^-^ LOL. How could I mix that up?!_

_Anyways, we spent at least two hours at the restaurant and the food was delicious. I think I will return sometime… After we paid (well, Kuroo insisted to pay and so I decided to leave matters in his hand) we got outside and though is still February, the afternoon sun was still warm and… it just felt nice ^-^_

_And so we decided to go for a walk (I don’t know why we decided so). We went to one of the larger parks and there weren’t many people which was really nice…_   
  


“Ah… how long do we have to walk?” Oikawa whines. “We’ve been walking for hours, haven’t we?”

“Weak.” Kuroo says teasingly.

“Tsk.” Oikawa snorts. “So mean. I can’t believe I really accepted your request.”

“But you have.” Kuroo comments cheerfully.

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Ridiculous.”

“Maybe that’s what you like about me?”

“Do you really believe so?” Oikawa says bluntly. “Well, actually, believe what you want.”

Silence falls between them for a while but Oikawa feels that Kuroo gives him an expectant stare.

“What?” Oikawa glares.

“I wonder how long it’ll take until you tell me what’s bothering you.” Kuroo says calmly, his eyes strangely narrowed.

“Bothering?” Oikawa repeats and frowns. “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re the one who’s bothering me.”

Kuroo laughs. “Nice try, Tooru, but you can’t hide it.”

“Hide what?”

“The things that bother you.”

“I told you. You’re the one who’s bothering me.” Oikawa replies. “Or what else should bother me?”

“Are you going to make me guess?”

“If that’s what you want.” Oikawa shrugs. “Feel free to do so.”

“I doubt it’s something that happened recently.” Kuroo says. “Because you wouldn’t be here with me otherwise.”

Oikawa’s face heats up. _Did he…_ He clears his throat. “Even if something is actually bothering me, why should I tell you?”

“I’m curious what it may be.” Kuroo smirks.

Oikawa stops abruptly. _Why… why… why can he see that? Why? Who are you, Kuroo Tetsurou that you seem to see everything that’s going on behind the walls I’ve built. Why?_

“Can we sit down for a moment?” Oikawa says, his voice low and calm.

Kuroo’s smirk disappears instantly and he nods. “Come, over there is a bench.”

Side to side, they sit now on the bench, remaining silent for a while.

“What makes you think something is bothering me?” Oikawa finally says, knitting his eyes together.

Kuroo sighs. “You always make yourself and others believe that you have that much confidence in everything you’re doing, right? But I know that even you waver sometimes. I know that sometimes you feel anxiety too. But you don’t like showing it to others, am I right?”

_Why can he see that?_

“How would you know?” Oikawa asks, not meeting the others eyes.

“Because you always, since the night we met, reassure yourself.” Kuroo explains. “I’m not saying it’s bad or so. But you seem a bit absent sometimes like you’re in whole different world. And then you find yourself in this reality again and then you do it. You reassure yourself.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrows. _We haven’t been out much, hell we only danced together and met in the club. And yet he seems to know everything. Like he is reading a book and knows already how the books ends before he has even gotten to that point. Why? Why does he… How does he do that?_

Oikawa folds his hands. “I don’t know how to put this into words… I…” He pauses.

“Take your time.” Kuroo orders softly. “Don’t feel you need to tell me something you don’t actually want to share.”

Oikawa sighs. “You know, my parents never believed in me. The always wanted me to do things what I never liked. The always demanded for more, more, more. They always gave me money in order to attend additional school programs. In the UK, in Germany,… but that’s not what I wanted. _Make sure that you earn enough to make your life worth living._ That’s what my father used to say while my mom always came to me and said such as: _why are you doing this? Why can’t you do your stuff like other kids from school? Why taking the risk when there’s a safe way to go.”_

Oikawa snorts.

“I never ever wanted that. I had something else in mind. I had my dream. I always wanted to achieve this dream. Always. I would do anything in order to achieve it. Anything. But my parents, even some of my friends, never believed in me. They always wanted to convince me otherwise… they always wanted me to go another way. A way I wouldn’t want to go, but that didn’t matter to them. And so we lost contact and Iwa-chan was kind enough to let me live with him before we moved together.”

Oikawa pauses again. His elbows rest on his legs while his head now rests over the tops of his hands.

What is your dream?” Kuroo asks.

Oikawa takes a deep breath: “I want to be… _an actor_.”

Silence reigns for two or three heartbeats.

“I know it’s not an easy thing to do nor an easy thing to achieve.” Oikawa speaks again. “But I’ve attended several acting school, in the UK and Japan even though my parents didn’t approve this. Whatever. I know I can do it because it’s something I want. Something I’ve always wanted to be. It’s not about the glamour or fame. It’s about doing something what I like and what I believe I’m good at. And that’s why I started to work as a stripper, a “diamond dancer”. Unlike acting, dancing has always been something like my hobby. And Ukai accepted me and now I’m working in _PR’s_ to earn enough money. Money that will bring me to America and on stage.” He pauses for a moment and waits until an elderly couple pass them before he continues: “I know it sounds strange but I always knew that I have to run on my own if I want to do this. I always knew that one day… one day I’d be ready to run. To run away from the things I never liked. From the things that I never could call mine. Because I never wanted it. Never. Not once…”

He lifts his eyes and turns his head to the side and Oikawa’s eyes meet Kuroo’s. And Kuroo’s eyes are warm, comforting and soft. There is no sign that he is going to convince Oikawa otherwise. There is no sign that he would make fun of him or something like it.

“I think it’s a beautiful dream.” Kuroo says and smiles. “I really think so and I will root for you.”

Oikawa remains silent for a moment as he then throws his arms around Kuroo and pulls himself closer. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Not to mention.” He hears Kuroo’s mumbling voice next to his ear.

_I really don’t know how long we remained in this position… maybe only a few seconds or a couple minutes. I just didn’t want to let go of him. I wanted to hold him – and I wanted him to hold me. I just wanted to stay there even though the afternoon grew cold swiftly. Everything was just… perfect. It really was. <3_

_Afterwards, we left the park and I told him some other details about my time in the UK, in the acting schools and he shared some of his stories. We talked a lot. And I liked it. I liked every bit of it!_ _J_

Oikawa’s hand suddenly reach out, grabbing Kuroo’s arm and wrapping his own around it as he points out a small coffee shop. “Hey, wait, let’s go in there! They sell cups and stuff, too.”

Actually, it is not as if Oikawa has a burning need to go into a coffee shop. He just wants an excuse to be close to Kuroo, to turn his head a bit and put his lips near his ear so he could say it softly. And he does indeed notice the way that the tips of Kuroo’s ears tinge red because he did not expect Oikawa’s voice to be so close to his ear. He swallows before stuttering out an answer. “S-sure.”

And so they go together inside and look at the different cups as Oikawa sees an alien cup he falls instantly in love with. His eyes begin to gleam and sparkle as he touches the glass gently. Kuroo’s eyes follow him as he then takes the cup and goes to the cashier.

Fifteen minutes later, Oikawa holds happily a bag with his new cup. What a wonderful day.

As they get together to the train station, Oikawa can feel the anxiety creep up in him again. It is time to part ways – for now. And yet he does not want their perfect day to end. They had so much fun and Oikawa has finally found someone else he could share his dream with.

His dream to become an actor.

That is why he wants to spend more time with his date. Because if things go as planned he would leave the country in less than two month. Two months. Even in these remaining two month there is no way that they could meet each other whenever they wanted. Time is limited. They simply would not always have time to see each other.

There would be not time for them. Not much.

And when these two month are spent as well… they would not be able to see each other until... Until..?

What should he do? What-

Oikawa’s face goes blank for a moment as he feels soft lips on his forehead, warming his entire face that is probably scarlet by now. The gentle touch sends him chills down his spine and he almost drops the bag with his cup.

He looks up, interlocking with Kuroo’s eyes and feeling his heart pounding loud and wild in his chest. He sees Kuroo’s lips and moves in, the other closing the distance as their lips at long last meet. Oikawa feels him licking his lower lip for the space of a few breaths before he closes his eyes and opens his mouth so that Kuroo could slip his tongue in. Oikawa’s hands are gripping at Kuroo’s neck, bringing him in more, deepening the kiss.

Kuroo’s lips are soft, very soft and his mouth tastes better than it has any right to. And yet, Oikawa enjoys the other’s touch, presence and warmth. Every sound seems now muffled to his ears.

After a long moment, they break away. Their eyes interlock again but both are too flustered to say anything. They remain quiet for a few moments until Oikawa pulls him in for a hug, breaking the silence. “Thank you Tetsu-chan. Thanks for asking me out. It was such a wonderful day.”

“Thanks for coming.” Kuroo speaks softly into his ear. “And thanks for sharing your dream.”

Oikawa feels himself blush again… _Again? Ou god… my pretty face will turn into a tomato!_

“I hope we’ll meet soon again.” Kuroo says and pulls slowly away.

Oikawa sighs. He does not want to let go of Kuroo.

Not yet.

But for now, he has to.

And so he nods, leans forward and plants a soft kiss on Kuroo’s lips before he backs up, losing the other’s touch. They depart and Oikawa walks home slowly, happy and sad at the same time while the sun begins to set and the air is full of the beauty of a fair spring evening still clinging to the chill of winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Finally!! Oikawa's dream. We will soon follow Oikawa his way to... Hollywood! That will be the main arc of the story with new characters being introduced and involved.   
> 2\. I think the next update will take a while since life in Tokyo is busy AND I will have to do some researches for the upcoming chapters as well... Sorry for that.


	13. Gone with the wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Only one more month and I’m off. Out. Gone with the wind…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW... my week so busy but I kinda managed to write a proper chapter.  
> Chapter is kinda personal, so...

“Payment, payment, payment…” Oikawa sings quietly, sitting in front of his laptop in his bedroom and entering the password to his bank account.

“Loading, loading, loading…” He hums, strangely nervous.

_Ok… let’s see…_

“Yahooooo!!!!” He exclaims. “Yes! Here we go, bitches!”

“Oi, Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi’s grumpy voice sounds throughout the apartment. “It’s way too early for you to be yelling.”

“Iwa-chaaaaaan.” Oikawa hoots happily. “I have reasons to be yelling.”

Of course he has. He just received the payment for his job as a dancer which means he has only to work at PR’s for about a month before he could finally, _finally,_ after years of waiting and saving money, leave Japan and follow his dream.

_Be a star. Be the star you are._

Hollywood is waiting. He has now only to extend his hand and grasp it.

But the payment is not the only reason why he is so happy on this Sunday morning. A week has passed since he met Kuroo Tetsurou. And though they were not able to meet each other throughout the entire week, they kept texting each other.

Nothing can break his good mood – for now. Unless his grumpy neighbor remains being grumpy. And so he gets up, locks his laptop and hurries over into the other’s bedroom.

Iwaizumi lays in bed, on his stomach and only wearing his boxers. Oikawa grins devilishly and begins to run before he jumps.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.” Iwaizumi roars.

Oikawa bursts into a laughter while the other is holding his back, sending him one of the deadliest glare he has ever sent him.

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa throws his arms around the other who tries in vain to get rid of his cuddly friend but fails in his attempt since his back hurts. And Oikawa takes the advantages shamelessly. “Iwa-chan, don’t be so grumpy. Get up, let’s have breakfast… or are you telling me you have a hangover from last night?”

Iwaizumi mumbles something but sits up. “No. Just let go off me or you won’t have _any_ breakfast for quite a while.”

Oikawa takes his arms off immediately as if he has burned his fingers. Iwaizumi slips into a hoodie and leaves his bedroom, Oikawa following him closely.

“Why are you yelling this early anyways?” Iwaizumi snorts as he enters the kitchen.

“I received my payment.” Oikawa comments. “Only one more month and I’m off. Out. Gone with the wind…”

“Oh, thanks heaven.”

“Why?” Oikawa asks.

“The apartment will then be so peaceful and calm.”

“MEAN. SO RUDE.” Oikawa snorts aloud.

Iwaizumi begins to laugh in response. “Well, that’s what I’m gonna miss for sure… _Rude. Mean.”_

Oikawa rolls his eyes, takes some of the plates and walks into the living room. “How was the party last night?”  


∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
“Flowers for Oikawa Tooru.” Wafts into the apartment.

Oikawa sighs and walks towards the door. Iwaizumi grins cheeky.

_White roses… again…_

“Thank you.” Oikawa says deadpan. “Hey, do you have a girlfriend by any chance?”

“Me?” The postmen asks confused. “I do, yes.”

“Ok, look, that’s what we’re gonna do.” Oikawa says and leans a bit closer. “You take the roses and you’ll give to your girlfriend. She will love you even more.”

“I’m sorry sir but I can’t-“

“Of course you can.” Oikawa sings and waves him off. “Take the roses. I insist.”

“I-“ the postman tries again but Oikawa cuts him off successfully and blinks sassy: “Be a man and take them.”

 _Of course_ that would work. _Of course._

Oikawa hands him the roses and the man leaves without another word, a wide grin on his face.

Oikawa shuts the door and walks back into the living room. Iwiazumi nips at his coffee. “Where are the roses?”

 _“Gone with the wind.”_ Oikawa sings, earning an annoyed glare. “Same sender?” He asks curtly.

“Yup, same.”

“Why don’t you tell him just to stop this?” Iwaizumi frowns.

“I did.” Oikawa replies. “I did tell him he shouldn’t send any flowers.”

“This apartment will soon be a garden full of white roses if he keeps sending them.” Iwaizumi snorts.

“What a wonderful idea.” Oikawa hums. “You could invite some women to stay with you overnight.”

“Not while you’re present.”

“Oho…” Oikawa giggles and two of his fingers flash instantly up. “So you’re that loud in bed?”

“The fuck?” Iwaizumi growls into his cup.

“Admit it, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa hoots, tilting his head to the side.

“Admit what?”

“Admit that you’re pretty loud while having sex.” Oikawa chuckles.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe we have this conversation.”

Oikawa shifts forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head now resting over the tops of his hands. “Tell me, Iwa-chan. Which position do you like best?”

“Oh god…” Iwaizumi shakes his head. “That’s none of your business. Besides, you already know that.”

“Ou do I?” Oikawa lifts his eyebrows surprised. “Did I-“

“Yes, you did ask me.” Iwaizumi pushes his chair back and begins to clean the table. “You asked me all kinds of questions, remember?”

“Ou yes, I do. I think I even wrote that down.”

“You did – what?!” Iwaizumi shouts, almost dropping the plates.

“I wrote it down.” Oikawa backs up. “Diary, remember?”

“You dumbass.” Iwaizumi yells angrily. “Why? Why would someone write this down?”

“Because I write everything down I hear or see.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and leaves the living room.

“I think you like it simple, don’t you, Iwa-chan.”

No comment.

“Iwa-chan?”

Silence.

“Just grunt or make some noise.”

A very grumpy noise leaves Iwaizumi’s throat. Oikawa chuckles. _He’s such a cutie when he’s embarrassed. Hm… Enough teasing for today._

His cell phone rings and he unlocks it as Kunimi’s test pops up:  


_Hi Tooru, how’re you doing?_  
_{March 1 st, 20..; 09:53 a.m.}  
_

_Sweetboy, heyho ^-^_ _what’s up?_  
_{March 1 st, 20..; 09:54 a.m.}  
_

_Just had breakfast with Iwa-chan ^-^  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 09:54 a.m.}  
 

 _That sounds nice :D  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 09:55 a.m.}  
  

 _Do you mind if I ask you something?  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 09:55 a.m.}  
 

 _Go ahead, sweetboy. Is there something bothering you?  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 09:57 a.m.}  
 

 _Someone asked me out. This afternoon.  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 09:59 a.m.}  
 

 _How wonderful is that?!_ _(*_ _ﾟ▽ﾟ_ _*)  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:00 a.m.}  
 

 _Hm… but. I don’t know what to do… I’ve never been on a date.  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:01 a.m.}  
 

 _Never? Not once.  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:02 a.m.}  
 

 _No. I’m not that interesting.  
_ _{March 1 st, 20..; 10:03 a.m.}_

 

 _Bullshit! Stop saying this, Aki-chan. Or I’ll come and cut your hair. -.-  
__{March 1 st, 20..; 10:05 a.m.}_ 

 _It means nothing if you’ve never been asked out before.  
__{March 1 st, 20..; 10:06 a.m.}_ 

 _Besides… now it’s your opportunity to shine :D  
_ _{March 1 st, 20..; 10:07 a.m.}_

 

 _  
Ok… but… do I have to do something?  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:09 a.m.}  
 

 _No… only if you want to ^.-  
_ _{March 1 st, 20..; 10:11 a.m.}_

 

 _Hmm… that’s why I was wondering if you have some advice for me… because I don’t have that kind of money to treat him or so :'(  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:14 a.m.}  
 

 _No. I don’t want to spoil you. You make your own experiences.  
__{March 1 st, 20..; 10:16 a.m.}_ 

 _Just relax, stay calm. If you don’t want something to happen just let him know that you aren’t ready  
__{March 1 st, 20..; 10:18 a.m.}_ 

And money means nothing on a date. If he cares about money though, then you better skip him. You don’t deserve this.  
_{March 1 st, 20..; 10:20 a.m.}_

 

  _Alright. Thx, Tooru  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:22 a.m.}  
 

 _No worries… tell me later everything, right? ^-^  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:25 a.m.}  
 

 _I will :)  
_ _{March 1 st, 20..; 10:27 a.m.}_

_And please teach me later some of your moves. Maybe they will help me to raise more money for myself.  
_ _{March 1 st, 20..; 10:29 a.m.}_

_Sure, I will. I promise. But now… hush and prepare yourself ^-^  
__{March 1_ st, 20..; 10:33 a.m.}  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
The following month in Oikawa’s life ended up being like a hummingbird’s beating wings. Time flew, but not backwards, like a hummingbird could; and yet he did not even notice whether the month passed swiftly or slowly. He got up late every morning, took a shower, dressed himself, cleaned the apartment before heading out to his work at PR’s. And there he stayed for the night, dancing and offering himself to the crowd until the night was entirely spent. He went home – Watari or Josh occasionally offered him a ride – and crawling under the sheets.

Now, at the end of March, Oikawa sits in the back of _PR’s,_ listening to Ukai’s booming voice while drifting off in some nice daydreams. He sees himself being on stage, accepting some kind of award and the only thing he manages to say is “Thank you”.

 _“Thank you, thank you, thank you,…”_ He giggles cheeky.

“Hey, Oikawa.” Ukai shouts. “Are you paying attention.”

“Mhmm.” The other mumbles absentmindedly.

“So?” Ukai raises his eyebrows. “What did I just say?”

“Something about…” Oikawa stutters. “Me… probably?”

“Not directly.” Ukai replies angrily. “I just announced your departure.”

“You di- why?” Oikawa comments perplexed. “That’s too early.”

“Don’t you remember what you said back then when I hired you?”

 _“One year and then I’ll be gone.”_ Oikawa recites quickly. “And this one year…

… is almost spent, correct.” Ukai finishes. “Which means I have to look for someone else because Kunimi is too inexperienced to be your successor if that is what you intended him to be.”

“Hey, believe in him.” Oikawa says in a defending tone. “He’s doing great considering he’s been working here for just about two month or so.”

“Maybe, but the customer asks for more.” Ukai responses. “And as you may have not forgotten while daydreaming: we do what the customer wants us to do. And he’s neither been booked nor asked to do a double on stage. So…”

“No.” Oikawa slams his palms on the table. He does not like the way this conversation is going. Definitely not. “You’re not going to fire him.”

“He’s already fired.” Ukai says deadpan. “He received the letter yesterday which is why he’s absent today.”

“No.” Oikawa shoots up. “No, you’re playing dirty, Ukai Keishin. He’s a good dancer and he’s willing to learn. You can’t just kick him out! I’ve been teaching him, remember?”

“He might be willing, but this will is not enough to remain in this business.” Ukai comments. “You, too, know this.”

“I do.” Oikawa says and bite’s his lips. _And I know that Kunimi has no money… he has nothing. He desperately needs it._

“Give him a chance.” Oikawa says calmly. “I’ll postpone my schedules and teach him even harder to become better.”

“Sorry.” Ukai replies. “But there’s nothing I can do for him now.”

Oikawa snorts and leaves the room in a rush.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
Although he receives his final payment the following day, Oikawa is in a very bad mood. Kunimi is both, being kicked out and ignoring him. He tried to call him more than hundreds of times within the last twenty four hours, left tons of voice notes and texts but Kunimi remains silent.

“Give him some time.” Iwaizumi says, entering his bedroom. “I think he needs-“

“No, you don’t understand!” Oikawa shouts, pressing the call button yet again. “He has _no_ money. He has nothing, only his talent to be a dancer. But no one seems to see this. I want him to be my successor so that he can attend a dancing class or something like it. This fucker –

_Hello, this is the mailbox…_

Oikawa snorts and locks his phone. “- Ukai just fires him _because_ the fucking customer are not interested in him!”

Iwaizumi sits down. “I truly understand that.”

“He believes in my talent, Iwa-chan, _in mine!_ Not in his own!” Oikawa says, dialing the number again. “Please.” He mumbles nervously. “Pick up already.”

“Do you know his address?” Iwaizumi says.

“I do, kinda.” Oikawa replies, watching the other getting back on his feet. “I go and get my jacket and then we go and visit him, alright?”

“Yes.” Oikawa jumps off the bed. “God, why didn’t I think of that?”

About fifty minutes later, Iwaizumi’s car enters a sordid parking low. The place where Kumini _claims_ to live looks sinister.

 _He really has no money._ Oikawa shivers.

They get of the car and are welcomed by the cold wind coming down from the north.

“Do you know in which of these _buildings_ he lives?” Iwaizumi asks, his eyes wandering slowly over the area.

“I think in the first one.” Oikawa says after a moment. “I remember him saying that the sun wakes him.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes narrow. “Good point there.”

“Let’s go.”

They arrive the dirty front door and Oikawa looks out for the Kunimi’s name on the bell.

_Kunimi Akira_

Oikawa sighs and presses the bell. He feels a strange yet bizarre feeling taking hold of him and although he is wearing his thick coat, he shivers terribly. Anxiety creeps up as they begin to ascend the stairs.

The inside of the house looks haunted. They could hear baby’s crying behind locked doors, a man yelling and swearing loudly. It feels like a horror movie. The setting, the atmosphere, the light. Everything is moudly and gloomy.

Finally, they reach Kunimi’s door and with trembling hands, Oikawa presses the bell.

No sound.

Obviously broken.

So he decides to knock at the door, lightly first.

No reaction. Seconds pass.

Oikawa takes a shaky breath. His hearts pounds wild and nervous in his chest.

Iwaizumi extends his hand and surprisingly manages to open the door.

_Unlocked._

“Aki-chan?” And though Oikawa’s can barely be heard, it sounds spooky throughout the seemingly deserted apartment.

“Maybe he isn’t home.” Iwaizumi whispers as Oikawa enters.

The room is as gloomy as the rest of the house but Oikawa can feel something is off. There is no movement, no sign of life.

Together they enter the kitchen.

And together they see Kunimi laying on the floor and they instantly recognize the smell of blood sneaking up their noses. But, as strange as it seems, Oikawa’s brain does not relate those two things at first. He cannot think at all and just stands there for a few seconds before it hits him like a train.

He smells blood.

Kunimi laying on the kitchen floor.

Blood that belongs to Kunimi.

Kunimi is laying on the floor, with blood on his wrists and he is not moving.

“Aki-chan?” Oikawa whispers, expecting a reaction, _expecting_ him to open his eyes.

No answer.

No response.

No action.

Nothing.

Only the deadly silence.

And before Iwaizumi manages to say something, Oikawa hits the floor with his knees, shaking Kunimi, screaming, _begging, pleading_ , and desperately trying to get a reaction.

_I wish I had your talent, too…_

“Please… please!” Oikawa repeats over and over him, while desperation and realization take over him. “Please, _Akira,_ open your eyes! Please…”

_…I wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore…_

“Akira.” his voice starts to rise. “Remember that I promised you to become better? Remember that you look so much better when you smile… please…! Remember when we danced our first double for practice? Please open your eyes and dance again…!”

Tears starts to roll down his face.

“Please… don’t give up! Don’t let Ukai destroy your precious life!

Oikawa hardly manages to breathe because despair and anger are crushing his chest, breaking his bones. He wants it to stop. He wants Kunimi to open his eyes.

But no answer would come.

Nothing.

Afterwards, Oikawa would not remember Iwaizumi grabbing his phone and calling for help, he would not remember the ambulance lights and the sound either. But both things are suddenly there. One taking care of him, the other taking care of Kunimi.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
Only thanks to Iwaizumi’s help Oikawa manages to attend Kunimi’s funeral. The graveyard is almost empty on this cold Friday morning and only a few people actually stand in front of the coffin, watching it slowly descending into the hole.

 _“…K-Kunimi Ak-kira...”_ Echoes in Oikawa’s mind.

 _PR’s_ dancers, the „diamond dancers“, stand there in silence. Ukai says a few words but even he struggles to keep his tears at bay. He kneels in front of the hole, begging for forgiveness.

 _…I don’t have that kind of money to treat him or so_ _L_ _…_

Iwaizumi holds Oikawa arm to support him. And while he stands there just like a sculpture, he already thinks of what he is going to write down...

_Today was Akira’s funeral._

_And there were only a few people that came to say “goodbye”. The ones that abandoned him cried like a river and were present while the ones that Akira must have loved were absent. No father, no mother, no brother or sister, even no childhood friend._

_It seems strange that most of them who were there are actually all strippers. And one of them did not acknowledge the talent Kunimi Akira had. And yet here he was, crying, begging for forgiveness. I couldn’t stand his mere presence but I remained silent._

_Why did you do that, Aki-chan?_

_Why?_

_You were so young, so talented, and so full of love and warmth. Why did a beautiful flower like you were wilt so early? Why did no one ever recognize you?_

_It’s not fair._

 

_Two days later I went back to PR’s to get my stuff. The place looked haunted and even Josh, who always smiled, looked like a ghost. No one really spoke and I heard that Watari is going to leave PR’s, too, while Seth will propose to his girlfriend._

_But there was no Aki-chan… his place was empty, Ukai still hasn’t found a successor._

 

_I booked my flight tickets today… at the end of the month I’ll be out of the country; Hollywood is calling me. I sat down with my agency for acting stuff and how I get in contact with other stage players – because I might be doing stage acting first. I hope I get to know some nice new people…_

_Note to myself: once you’re leaving, you got to let Aki-chan know!_

Oikawa closes his diary with a sighs, puts it onto the nightstand and leans again the wall. The apartment is quiet; Iwaizumi is already sleeping. He quickly texts Mattsun and Makki back but in a way that they know that he is not in the mood for any further texting.

His knees are locked to his chest and he rests his chin on top of it. And for a while he remains in this position, peering into the nothingness.

A sudden ring makes him almost jump out of his own skin. His hand reaches out to grab the cell phone and he absentmindedly unlocks it.

Kuroo’s name pops up and Oikawa opens the message:  
 

 _I heard what happened… and it may sound inappropriate now but I wanted to know if you’d like to come over next weekend?  
_ _{March 31 st, 20..; 10:22 p.m.}_


	14. Touch me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want you… to… touch me.” He says, his voice low and husky. “Please… I’ve never done this with someone..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: feel free to offer some critique :)
> 
> Please check out the notes at the end...

Oikawa sighs. “How many people live in Tokyo?”

“In Tokyo Metropolis… more than 13 million.” Ushijima replies.

“Exactly.” Oikawa says deadpan. “And why in god’s name do I happen to bump into you? I have more than 13 million other choices, so to speak. But… it’s you. Y-O-U.”

Ushijima raises an eyebrow, but his face remains calm. And because it remains calm, it only makes Oikawa even more pissed.

He snorts as he tries to get past the tall man. The other extends his hands quickly and grips his wrist. “Wait.”

“What do you want?” Oikawa growls and turns. “Why are you stalking me?”

“I’m not stalking you.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” Ushijima shakes his head.

“I don’t believe you.” Oikawa says curtly.

“I’m telling you the truth though.” Ushijima comments. “I’m not stalking you.”

“What about the white roses you keep sending me?” Oikawa balks angrily.

“That’s not stalking.”

“What is it then?”

“Showing you my-“

“Yes, yes, yes.” Oikawa cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear.”

“Oikawa Tooru.” Ushijima says extremely calm and in a way Oikawa has not heard him speaking. “You have all reasons to hate me.”

“At least you understand that.” Oikawa pouts.

“But this doesn’t change the admiration I have for you.”

“The- what?” Oikawa backs up, confused.

“I told you that I like people with talent, right?”

“You did.” Oikawa says slowly, his eyes narrowing.

“And I admire your talent and yet…” Ushijima pauses and their eyes interlock as the other lessens the space between them. “I also admire the person you are.”

The hair on Oikawa’s neck stand up and he swallows hard. Is this… a confession? Or is he looking for something else? No, that can’t be. Why would he bother then sending flowers every Sunday?

“I…” He stutters, their eyes still interlocked. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Ushijima replies.

Oikawa backs up. “I’m sorry but… no. This.” He gestures between them. “Is not real. You … well, we had sex once and that’s it. You apologized and that’s fine for me. So don’t think you have to-“

“I don’t just think so.” Ushijima interrupts, lessening the space again. “It’s my wish to send you these flowers.”

“Well, anyway.” Oikawa says, as he feels his back touching the wall of a supermarket. “I’ll be out of the country soon so…”

Ushijima frowns and a strange gleam flushes over his face. Regret? Disappointment? Oikawa cannot tell for sure.

“I see.” Ushijima takes his eyes off and his normal stoic facial expression returns. “Then I wish you all the luck you need for whatever you’re doing.”

“Thank you.” Oikawa mumbles.

“See you.” Ushijima says and walks away. “… someday.”

Oikawa watches him disappear in the crowd of people and sighs, still leaning against the wall of a Supermarket.

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
_Tomorrow I’ll meet Tetsu-chan._

Oikawa sighs as he pauses for a moment, his eyes wandering beyond the window and peering into the night. A chilly march night and the wind blows cold. Oikawa has a tea on his nightstand standing as he focuses again on his diary.

_Tomorrow…_

_It’s been a week since Aki-chan’s funeral. And I still don’t know what to say. I still don’t know how to process this and forget the images in my head. I’ve been busy this week, preparing a lot of stuff. My flight is scheduled to take off at the end of the month. So… three weeks to go now._

_And though I’ve been busy I strangely find always the time to blame myself. I should’ve helped him… earlier. I should’ve tried to do something before it ended in… in the way it ended._

_Iwa-chan says it’s wrong. Mattsun & Makki and even Yahaba agree… but I can’t do anything about it. He shouldn’t have done this…_

_Well, I can’t always stick to the past otherwise I find it harder to build my future. But I made a promise… I promise that I will never ever forget Kunimi Akira. Never._

_And now… I’m nervous about tomorrow. I was sooooo happy when Tetsu-chan texted me last week and invited me for the weekend. I think it’s good. Having a fresh environment for two days… And it gives Iwa-chan a break, too._

_He needs it._

_He was so worried about me though he tried to hide it. But I know him better than he thinks. Or maybe he knows but tries to act like he doesn’t or… whatever._

_I’m so curious how Tetsu-chan’s apartment looks like. He said he put the key somewhere near the door in case I wanted to go there earlier… (maybe I’ll do that… then I have my time to figure some of Tetsu-chan secrets ^-^)._

_Anyway… Tooru! Get some sleep. Now! I doubt you’ll be sleeping much during the weekend… unless Tetsu-chan lets you… but I doubt he will. He’s a meanie. O.o_

_OMG… I’m going to spend the weekend with a meanie… how will I survive this?!  
_  

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
Of course Oikawa arrives earlier at Kuroo’s apartment and he finds the key hidden under the carpet before the front door.

“Too easy… Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa snorts.

He unlocks the door and enters the apartment.

It is smaller than his own. That is what he can tell before he even takes off his shoes at the entrance. But Kuroo seems to live on his own, maybe having only occasionally a friend (or – in his case – a one-night stand) over.

 _Bisexuals are always like this…_ Oikawa rolls his eyes and for whatsoever reason tiptoes along the short corridor to check out the few rooms the apartment has. There is Kuroo’s bedroom (the biggest, beside the room that serves as the living and dining room). Then there is a lovely kitchen (surprisingly clean though the owner’s hair is a mess – a reason why Oikawa expected the same for his apartment), a nice bathroom and a small room where Kuroo has his personal stuff such as clothing, books and… a paper block with sketches and writings.

_Interesting._

Oikawa takes his coat off and sits himself down onto the only chair in the room as he reaches out for said block. He begins to flip through the pages and is immediately stunned.

These drawings cannot be identified as “sketches” though they apparently are. But these drawing are perfect.

Just perfect.

There is no other word to describe what Oikawa sees right now in front of him.

He sees a mother and child enjoying the view. What the view is remains unknown because Kuroo had only focused on the mother and her child.

The next image shows a group of graceful swans, the next the hands of someone he does not know.

“Wow.” Oikawa whispers.

Mountains, lakes, cities, people, animal, forest, rivers,…

Whatever Kuroo has seen is perfectly captured in this paper block.

“You seem to like my drawings.”

The sudden sound of a voice close to his ear makes Oikawa almost jump out of his own skin. He drops the block and shots up like a bullet.

“Tetsu-chan.” He exclaims, as he faces the bedhead haired male. “How rude. I nearly collapsed. My poor heart.”

Kuroo’s shit eating grin widens. “Really?”

“Why are you grinning?” Oikawa snorts. “That’s not funny at all.”

“I’m just imagining the delightful opportunity of the kiss of life.”

Oikawa feels his face blushing. “Tsk.”

“But since you’re alright, you don’t need any help.”

“Tetsu-chan…”

“Hm?” The other grins widely.

“Fuck you.”

And Oikawa leans then in and presses his lips against Kuroo’s. The other male is just for the space of second surprised as he then brings his hand to lay on Oikawa’s side and deepens the kiss. Two tongues sensually touching each other, the light sound of smacking wet lips echoing throughout the small room.

But far too soon for Oikawa’s liking, the kiss is over and they part.

“Impatient, hu?” Kuroo blinks.

“No.” Oikawa feels his eyes water. He throws his arms around Kuroo and presses himself against the warm body just to make sure Kuroo would not notice the few tears that start to overflow his cheeks. “I just wanted to do this.”

“I see.” Kuroo says quietly and for a while they remain in silence, holding each other in a warm embrace.

Kuroo then clears his throat. “Anyway… what do you want to do? It’s Friday so… do you want to go out or-“

“Can we just stay here?” Oikawa says, still pressing his forehead against Kuroo’s shoulder. “If it’s ok for you, I mean.”

“Sure, that’s why I’m asking.” Kuroo says and adds. “But what do you want for dinner? There’s tons of good stuff nearby.”

“Ramen.” Oikawa muffles.

“Ramen?” Kuroo repeats.

“Yes, why not?”

“No, it’s ok.” Kuroo says, still not attempting to move. “But if you want something to eat you gotta move.”

Oikawa sighs and slowly they part. He avoids Kuroo’s glare for a moment so that the other would not notice he shed a few tears.

Despite milk bread being his favourite food, Oikawa feels the need to have something else instead for dinner. Maybe Milk bread would not be enough for a man like Kuroo so that is why he suggested ramen.

After around an hour they return to Kuroo’s apartment, pleased and slightly tired. Kuroo orders Oikawa to shower first while he is cleaning his bedroom since Oikawa insisted that they would share the king-sized bed.

They take turns after thirty minutes and Oikawa walks into the kitchen where he decides to make some tea.

Tea is easy.

No burning kitchens.

No danger.

Just boil water.

Easy. No danger.

But when a freshly showered male - only in his boxers - enters kitchen, Oikawa drops the can and hot water spills over the floor.

“Ah!” He exclaims and holds his throbbing fingertips.

“What are you doing?” Kuroo chuckles, still drying his messy hair with a towel.

“I didn’t expect you like this in the kitchen.” Oikawa snorts, feeling his cheeks blushing.

“Ou, sorry.” Kuroo says, although not feeling sorry at all.

“Now all the tea is gone, Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa pouts. “All my effort. Gone.”

“All your effort?” Kuroo’s eyes narrow.

“Yes. Iwa-chan doesn’t like it when I’m in the kitchen. He fears I’d burn it or so. Rude, isn’t it?”

“No.” Kuroo shrugs. “You don’t really look like a chef, y’know.”

“Mean.” Oikawa hisses and grabs the dropped can. “So mean.”

Kuroo chuckles and kneels down to clean the wet floor – still only wearing his boxer. A sight Oikawa genuinely enjoys though his cheeks turn into a deeper shade of red.

_Tooru… don’t just stare. Do something._

Following his own silent advice, he takes his eyes off and turns toward the sink as he suddenly felt aware of a heated gaze. He turns his head lightly the right side.

Kuroo looks at him with that mysterious shine in his eyes as he gets up on his feet before placing his palms against Oikawa’s slim hips. The brown’s breathe hitches once he feels Kuroo’s front pressing against his back. He can feel the solid wall of muscle, every line and curve, even through the layers Oikawa is wearing. He tenses up and Kuroo must have felt it, because he orders against his ear. “No, no, you gotta relax.”

The first he feels is Kuroo’s lips on his neck. The soft touch on his sensitive skin makes Oikawa’s entire frame shiver.

“Beautiful… as ever… “Kuroo mumbles incoherently against Oikawa’s neck. The vibration the other male’s low voice produced slips under his skin and flows all through the inside of his shivering body.

“Tetsu-chan…” He whispers as he finally manages to turn.

Their eyes interlock and Oikawa feels shoots of electricity rushing through his veins. He leans in and their lips finally meet, sensitively first. Oikawa deepens the kiss as he presses his body flush against Kuroo bare torso, his hands lightly resting on the other’s back.

They part and Kuroo attacks his neck once more.

“Tetsu-chan… I…” Oikawa mumbles as a soft moan escapes his throat.

Kuroo stops and leans back. “Yes?”

“I want you… to… touch me.” He says, his voice low and husky. “Please… I’ve never done this with someone… I love.”

Though Kuroo’s expression softens first, Oikawa can clearly see the lustful shimmer in Kuroo’s amber irises.

“Was that a confession?” He says airily.

“I think so…”

And their lips interlock hungrily, two fiery tongues fighting for dominance. As they part to breathe in some fresh air, Kuroo lips wander along Oikawa’s jaw and down his neck. He licks and sucks at Oikawa’s skin eagerly even as they slowly make their way through the small apartment and into the bedroom.

Kuroo’s finger slid under Oikawa’s shirt and caress his skin softly as he feels Oikawa’s back tensing up once more.

“Relax.” Kuroo whispers, his low, smooth voice echoing in Oikawa’s head, sending chills up and down his spine.

Oikawa’s lips curl into a smile against the mess haired lips as he lets his hands wandering over every curve of Kuroo’s bare backside before he motions him on the edge of the mattress, his lips never leaving Oikawa’s as he leisurely unbuttons his shirt.

Kuroo’s lips ultimately attack his neck yet again, before the wet touches move down to Oikawa’s now exposed collarbones and pectorals. He kneels down in front of the Oikawa and his soft hands follow his wet touches and come to rest on his chest: of course Kuroo notices Oikawa’s heartbeat that has painfully quadrupled.

The taller man smiles against the soft skin as he uses his hands to softly push at Oikawa’s chest and make him lie down onto the sheets before his lips close around one of Oikawa’s nipples, his tongues swirling around the sensitive skin. Breathless and continuous moans escape Oikawa’s parted lips and sound throughout the room. His back arches as he presses himself harder into Kuroo’s touch.

Oikawa’s head slowly falls to the side as Kuroo’s lips wander further down and close around his navel, feeling his pants being removed. Kuroo’s hands ghost gracefully over Oikawa tights as they slip under the waistband of his underwear.

But then he hesitates and lifts his mess haired head to look up into Oikawa’s brown eyes.

“Please.” Oikawa whispers with a shaky voice.

He can feel Kuroo’s smile against his skin as the other’s hand hook itself on the last piece of light clothing, pulling it down Oikawa’s now slightly raised hips and off his legs.

Kuroo pauses again and takes a few breaths while cherishing the sight he has. “You really are unimaginable beautiful.”

Oikawa’s feels his cheeks turning into a deeper shade of red as he whispers: “Thank… you.”

Kuroo steps back for a moment, taking off his own underwear as Oikawa watches each graceful movement of muscle under his skin. He gulps down heavily: the sight of Kuroo Tetsurou, open and unreserved, only meant for his eyes, is by far the most beautiful sight he has ever had in his whole life.

The naked body of a man is nothing new to him. And yet Kuroo’s body holds a presence that matches his personality perfectly: breathtaking.

The shit-eating grin softens and is soon replaced by a gentle smile, as he kneels down again, plastering Oikawa tights with kisses while his fingers reach out to grab the bottle of lube. As his fingers take hold of said bottle, he uncaps it and pours a generous amount of gel on his fingers before he smears it over his palms to heat it up a little.

While kissing Oikawa tights, his fingers make their way to Oikawa entrance. The first finger slips easily into him, and Kuroo slowly slid it inside and out, waiting for the slight tension around his digit to fade as Oikawa’s hands instantly takes possession of Kuroo’s hair, fingers curling softly into messy black hair.

Kuroo slid in a second finger after a while, causing Oikawa’s back to arch slightly. He can hear Kuroo chuckle softly against his skin while waiting the brown haired to loosen himself up for him until Oikawa lets out a soft moan.

A third finger follows.

Oikawa’s head falls to the side, eyes closed while Kuroo presses his digits further inside, grazing various spots, obviously looking for that special one.

And he is successful.

“Tetsu…!”

Oikawa back arches tightly, his nails digging either deeper into the sheets or Kuroo’s hair. Kuroo’s touch sends a new wave of electricity through his nervous pulsing veins. “P – Please… I…”

“Sshh.” Kuroo says, sucking at the smooth skin of Oikawa tights as his fingers yet again reach out and grab the foil package, rips it and extracts the condom from it.

Oikawa cannot tell if it happens wittingly or unwittingly as he spreads his legs even more to allow Kuroo more room while waiting for the other to enter. He rolls his hips delicately in pure enjoyment, as Kuroo slowly pushes his erection inside Oikawa.

The brown haired male catches his breath for the split of a second and gives a short whimper of pain. Kuroo tilts his head and presses his lips to Oikawa’s neck; he can feel that Kuroo is in fact smiling.

“What?” Oikawa says slightly breathless.

“You ok?” Kuroo plants another kiss on Oikawa’s neck.

“Tetsu-chan... I’m… I’m not – this weak.”

“I never thought you were.” Kuroo says and lifts his head. Their eyes interlock and Oikawa feels himself melting like ice under the heated gaze that meet his eyes.

_I want him to touch me…_

Their bodies – like their hearts - are finally united.

And Kuroo puts his back into a slow grind at first, skin rubbing and while Oikawa throws his arms around Kuroo and pulls him closer, as he begins to breathe heavily. Kuroo thrust slow, but deep into him, grazing the sweet spot.

“Ah- Te-tetsu…” Oikawa presses his head hard into the pillow, as another shot of electricity runs through his wave.

“You sound sweeter than I thought.” Kuroo says softly as he pushes again, filling the room with another sweet moan.

“Don’- Don’t be... so- ah!” Kuroo’s thrust deep into him once more, leaving the other male breathless. He presses his thighs against Kuroo’s side’s as the other begins to thrust faster.

Oikawa makes no effort in trying to stop the sweet groans that keep bubbling up from his throat. Kuroo’s lips are pressed flush against his neck as he leaves a the sharper bite that has definitely a greater impact than either of them expected: a particularly loud moan leaves Oikawa’s mouth, digging his nails deeper into Kuroo’s back whilst pressing his occiput harder into the blankets, writhing in unadulterated bliss and indulgence.

Kuroo gasps shortly in delight as the other leaves throbbing red marks on his back, drawing several rough sighs and breaths from him.

Oikawa rolls his eyes back; Kuroo grinds him hard into the mattress, which knocks slightly against the wall each time they move.

“Te- Tetsu… I’m – I’m com- “

Oikawa feels an enormous build-up as his whole body starts to shake, consumed by the overwhelming thrill: he feels a wet warmth substance spreading over his bare skin under his navel. His legs hugs Kuroo tightly while he keeps pounding into him, causing tiny after-shocks through Oikawa’s whole system.

Lips seal again and Oikawa devours thankfully the others his tongue for a moment as Kuroo suddenly frees himself, groaning loudly and grasping for air, driving himself one last time hard and deep into Oikawa before his own body tenses and shivers.

“Tooru…” Kuroo mutters weakly into his neck.

Completely spent, they breathe into each other’s ear before Kuroo parts from him with a soft kiss. He watches Kuroo rolling off the condom carefully and tossing it into the trashcan beside the bed. He then lays himself down beside Oikawa, slipping an arm around his side and pulling the other man against his chest. Oikawa cannot help but to bury his nose into Kuroo’s warmth, his hand coming to rest upon his chest and feeling the other’s heart and its steady beating.

Softly, Kuroo breathes into Oikawa’s hair: “How about a shower?”  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞  
 

“Tooru?”

“Hm?” Oikawa mumbles into his pillow, his back facing Kuroo.

“Are you crying?”

Silence.

“No.”

“For someone who isn’t crying…”Kuroo begin and Oikawa feels him moving closer, his soft palms on his shoulder, slowly turning him.

Their eyes interlock before Oikawa manages to press his eyes flush together.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kuroo says softly but Oikawa remains silently, eyes still closed.

Kuroo pulls Oikawa closer and makes soothing sounds as he speaks again, voice slightly worried. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No…” Oikawa says, mumbling against Kuroo neck. “No, it’s not you. At least not for the bad parts.”

“What are these bad parts?”

Oikawa sobs audibly. “I just can’t stop thinking about Kunimi.”

Oikawa swallows heavily against the lump in his throat, before he hears Kuroo saying: “I know that sounds stupid and not very helpful… but that’s normal. Everyone has their own time to let go of certain things. Facing the death of a dear friend is never easy. It will never be.”

“I know… but… but…” Oikawa pauses as he feels a new wave of tears coming. “I just couldn’t help… I did nothing. I said “I will help you”. But no real help came from me. Just… nothing. But he admired me so much that it hurts. I just … I- I…

“Hey, hey.” Kuroo says, pulling backwards and taking Oikawa checks into his warm palms. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. Don’t carry the weight of the dead or you’ll break sooner or later. You’ve got a dream to live, right? And Kunimi knew this, too. And even if he lived, you’d still be parted since you’re moving to pursue your dream, right? So please, don’t blame yourself.”

“But-“

“No, no “but’s”, “what if’s” or “could if’s” or any kind of those shitty stuff.” Kuroo says, voice harsher then intended. “You see, whenever tragedy strikes we usually try to find someone to blame. And in the absent of a suitable candidate, we usually blame ourselves. But that’s not right. Kunimi died because he committed suicide. He did it not because you refused to help him. He did it because it seemed to be the only choice for him.”

“But… Tetsu-chan… I can’t forget him.”

“You don’t have to forget him.” Kuroo says, planting a soft kiss on Oikawa’s forehead. “I’m only telling you to let go of it. Think about your dream now, your future.”

Oikawa nods slowly and it takes a while until his eyes are dry again as he says. “Whenever tragedy strikes… Where did you hear that?”

Kuroo snorts. “Why?”

“I don’t believe you made that up.” Oikawa says, teasingly and blinks.

“What if I did?”

“Come on, Tetsu-chan…”

“Ok, ok.” Kuroo shakes his head as he turns onto his back. “Downtown Abbey.”

“Really?” Oikawa giggles softly. “I didn’t know you were into that sort of series.”

“It’s pretty interesting.”

“That’s why you stole the line.”

“I didn’t steal it.” Kuroo scowls. “I just made use of it.”

“Ok, ok…” Oikawa says as he suddenly buries his head into Kuroo’s shoulder, his fingers ghosting gracefully over Kuroo’s jawline. “Thank you.”

“For what?” The other males hums.

“For being here.” Oikawa says as he hesitates for a second.

_Only two weeks… and then I have to leave him..._

“I will miss you so much.” He mumbles, more to himself. Though Kuroo hears it but pretends as if he had not heard what the brown just mumbled.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞  
 

_This weekend was…_ _゜ﾟ･_ _*:._ _｡_ _.._ _｡_ _.:*_ _･_ _'(*_ _ﾟ▽ﾟ_ _*)'_ _･_ _*:._ _｡_ _. ._ _｡_ _.:*_ _･゜ﾟ_ _!!_

_Saturday we went shopping first (well, shopping for Tetsu-chan means actually “I drag him to a lot of places and make him carry my bags”^^) But he has actually a good taste regarding clothes. But his hair… well, nevermind ^-^ (it’s so fluffy)_

_After that we went eating and watched a movie (the room was almost deserted and Tetsu-chan was shameless and… well, his hands were all over me… I was his prey though I really tried to focus on the movie… he’s so filthy.)_

_And the night tho…. FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *SCREAMS*_

_Glad we stayed at his place… his neighbors are either used to it OR deaf… because GOD we made a lot of noise. I always tried to keep my voice down but Tetsu-chan had other plans. Iwa-chan would hate me forever if we had done this in our apartment._

_Sunday… we had a late breakfast… veeery late… and stayed almost the entire day in bed. But I had to go home and Tetsu-chan had to finish off some work… :’( But the last kiss he gave makes me heart melt all over again while writing this: SO INTENSE! SO GOOD! God, I thought it would drive me mad!_

_Anyway, I got some stuff to do in my second last week in Tokyo… Can’t wait to leave – though I don’t want to think about leaving my friends and Tetsu-chan behind…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me about two weeks to write... or maybe even more since I just wasn't really satisfied witht he outcome. I can't remember how many times I edited it but I think now it's fairly good - or at least "ok". 
> 
> I try my best to upload at least one chapter a week... but I can't promise if it's going to work. Life in Tokyo is busy, y'know. Lot of stuff that need to be done.
> 
> Anyway, we're getting slowly but surely now towards the end of the introduction/the beginning of the main arc. I don't know what's going to happen, but I know which character will have an appearance :)
> 
> And last but not least: for more Oikuroo, please check out the following link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6111721/chapters/14008663  
> Wonderful story written by "CastielFollowMe".


	15. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matsukawa and Hanamki nod approvingly while Iwaizumi is still trying to wipe away his tears. Kuroo smiles and slowly he releases Oikawa’s hand and Oikawa loses his touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All types of critique is welcome :)

“So, why did you send me an email?” Ushijima says, raising an eyebrow whilst leaning back.

Oikawa snorts “Not because I wanted to see you in first place.”

“But there must be a reason.” Ushijima comments slowly, eyes wandering beyond the window for a while. It has constantly been raining for the past few days and with each day Tokyo has grown more and more into an odd copy of Venice.

“Well… “ Oikawa sighs. “As you may have not forgotten… I will leave the country very soon.”

“Yes, you told me so.” Ushijima says, still not meeting Oikawa’s brown eyes.

“That’s why I wanted to ask you if you could kindly stop sending me those flowers every Sunday.” Oikawa continues and adds. “And if it’s ok for you if I used the ones you sent me last Sunday for another purpose.”

“For another purpose?” Ushijima turns and faces now Oikawa.

“Yes.” Oikawa says, and takes a sib of his coffee.

“And what would that be or… no, even more important: why do you even ask?” Ushijima says, obviously irriated.

“Look… what happened between us.” Oikawa gestures with his index finger on either of them. “can’t be changed nor can I forget it. And to be honest it kinda flatters me that you keep sending me those flowers as a sign of apology. But since those flowers have this kind of purpose it feels… strange… if I just use them for something else I have in mind. That’s why I’m asking you if it’s ok for you.”

Ushijima remains silent for a while as he then clears his throat. “That’s surprisingly kind and considerate.”

Oikawa snorts and pouts. “I am kind.”

“Maybe.” Ushijima states and chuckles shortly before his face softens. “But yes… you can use them for whatever you have in mind.”

“Well… uhm… thanks.” Oikawa says awkwardly and sibs again at his coffee.

“Do you mind me asking what you have in mind?”  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
 _My dear Akira,_

_This will be the last letter I’m sending to you – wherever you might be right now. It will be the last visit, before I move on. Of course – and I promise you – I will never ever forget you. I will never forget the beauty of your smile and the kindness you showed to each and every one that passed your way. I might understand one day why you chose the way you chose. I certainly will._

_But for now, my dear friend, I will no longer seek for an answer. I will no longer shed tears (even though I’m crying right now… sorry). I will cherish your memory for all my life and if I ever will win an Oscar or Golden Globe or whatever… I will mention you. I want you to watch me. And when I stay there I will imagine you being there as well._

_You know, two days ago I watched a wonderful movie, starring the marvelous Cate Blanchett. The movie is called “Carol”. In that movie there’s a wonderful line which says: “There are no accidents. And everything comes full-circle.”_

_I think, I know what it means. I understand what it means for me. And to be honest, even though I’m afraid to go, even though I’m trembling like a fool right now while writing this letter: I’m so ready for the future. I’m so ready for everything that might come. Because even though I will leave this place, I won’t leave my memories – nor will I ever forget them._

_I still have my friends and, you know, I have found someone I truly love. I love him with the bottom of my heart and although we will be parted for a while I don’t doubt this will part our ways at all._

_Ou, btw… these white roses are my last gift for you. Because… there is a song about a white rose that says it hasn’t fully bloomed yet. You are just like this white rose. You withered too early…_

_And the guy who kept me sending these flowers agreed that I will leave them at your grave. Because I feel they match you._

_Speaking of said guy… Well, how can I say: I met him and I kinda forgave him for what happened though I don’t really want to be around him. But I allowed him to add me on Facebook so… I think I did the right thing?_

_Well, anyway, I gotta go now._

_Wherever you are right now, know that I miss you so much._

_May you rest in peace,_

_Tooru Oikawa_

 

And Oikawa puts down the white rose onto the earth, in front of the cold stone that guards Akira’s name. Oikawa places the letter carefully on top on the flowers and remains in the rain for a moment silently.

By tomorrow, no one would be able to read the letter that is only meant for Kunimi Akira. A white rose that withered too early.

A few tears roll over Oikawa’s cheeks as he turns and leaves the graveyard.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
“Do you really have everything you need?” Iwaizumi asks as he opens the door of his car.

“Yes.” Oikawa replies cheerfully.

“Passport?”

“Yes.”

“Wallet?”

“Yes.”

“Boarding pass?”

“Yes… well, the check-in documents.”

Matsukawa, who sits together with Hanamaki in the back of Iwaizumi’s car, rolls his eyes and says deadpan: “Mama… your son will be alright, don’t worry.”

Iwaizumi snorts but remains silent as he starts the engine.

Despite being nervous, Oikawa keeps talking until they arrive at the airport. By the time the engine dies, he feels a new wave of nervousness rolling over and almost drowning him. But he silently gathers all his courage he got and opens the door.

He knows how to wear a straight face, although the emotions are just right beneath the surface. He feels sleepy because he did not sleep a wink last night – and neither did Iwaizumi.

They had held a little party for Oikawa – a fancy dinner in one of his favourite restaurants, followed by Karaoke and concluded by some warm tea made by Iwaizumi at their apartment – before they went to bed. Matsukawa and Hanamaki had stayed overnight and shared the bed with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, respectively.

Kuroo had been invited, too, but he unfortunately had to work which was why he had come to spend the previous night with Oikawa. Some cuddles that led into kissing, kissing that led into sex, sex that led into more cuddles, and cuddles that led into a lot of tears. (Oikawa cried almost the entire night, pressing himself flush against Kuroo warm body while the other made soothing sounds and whispered things like “It’s ok” and “We’ll see each other again” or “Come on, we’ll text a lot and stuff” and “I will visit you as often as I can, I promise”.)

Maybe it is better that Kuroo is not here to see him off. It already tears his apart just imagining leaving his friends behind and heading into a new world. Though excited, he makes him sad whenever he thinks about it now.

After the check-in and the luggage drop, the four of them head to a Starbucks for a last coffee together. Oikawa can feel his tears as they sit down and watches other people saying their goodbye’s to their friends or family members.

_No… don’t cry._ He reminds himself, as Hanamki puts down the Amerciano in front of Oikawa. _Just… don’t…_

For almost an hour the talk quite casually as if the four of them had completely forgotten where they are and what is about to come.

“I didn’t know that you will live with another Japanese actor.” Matskawa says, finishing his coffee and putting down the cup afterwards.

“I told you… didn’t I?” Oikawa frowns.

“I think he did.” Hanamaki sighs.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You’re getting old.” Iwaizumi shrugs.

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, I can see a grey hair.” Oikawa chuckles.

“I wear them with pride.” Matsukawa says deadpan.

Hanamaki rolls his eyes. “Do as you wish.”

“Hey.” Oikawa interrupts. “We should take a selfie for Yahaba.”

“Yes, it’ll be the last for a while.” Matsukawa says.

Silence.

The three of them can hear Oikawa gulp heavily as he lets the word sink in.

“Well done.” Hanamaki snorts.

“Hey, it’s ok.” Oikawa says and he flashes two fingers up. “I’m cool with that. Do you really think I’ll cry?”

“Yes.”

“Sure.”

“Of course.”

Oikawa mouth falls agape. “So mean.” He scowls, but still fishes his cell phone out of his pocket.

After more than ten minutes and twenty selifes (it took a while until everyone was pleased with the way they looked on it – Oikawa and Hanamaki being overly picky), they leave Starbucks and slowly but surely head for the Gate.

Despite Narita being a huge airport, they make their way quickly to the gate. But with each step, Oikawa feels the lump in his throat growing and he swallows hard. He feels a new wave of tears coming but somehow manages to hold them back.

The knots in his stomach grow and his hands begin to tremble as he sees the gate only a few meters away. He shivers and then stops.

“Everything you need is in your bag, right?” Iwaizumi says, he voice strangely quiet.

“Yes.”

“Passport ready?” Hanamaki adds gently.

“M-hm.”

“Boarding pass?”

“Y-yeah.”

“All the documents you need for LA?” Matsukawa asks.

“M-..Mhm.”

Silence.

Oikawa lowers his head. “I think … I- I better go.” He mumbles, the first tears rolling over his cheeks.

“It’s ok…” He hears Iwaizumi saying and before he realizes he feels himself in a strong, warm embrace. Hanamaki’s voice is close to his ear. “Goodbye. Stay dry.”

“Isn’t it… “stay clean”…?” Oikawa sobs.

The other giggles and releases him.

Matsukawa is the next that gives him a massive hug.

“Make sure you send us tickets to the premiere, right?”

“I will…” Oikawa stutters.

Iwaizumi is the next and as their bodies press flush against each other, Oikawa can feel even through his lawyers that his best friend is trembling violently while desperately trying to hold his own tears back.

“Make sure you don’t cause… too much toubles.” Iwaizumi whispers. “I’ll punch you otherwise.”

“So mean.” Oikawa says, releasing the wave of tears he tried to hold back.

“Take care.” Iwaizumi adds, his wet checks close to Oikawa’s.

Oikawa takes a deep breath as he hears Hanamaki saying. “Group hug.”

And Oikawa feels more arms being thrown around him, while he sobs audibly. It takes a while before they part and Oikawa takes a step away from his friends. Hanamaki’s hand lies on Iwaizumi’s shoulder who tries in vain to wipe his tears away. Matsukawa stands beside them, smiling though his eyes look sad as the slow realisation take over him.

“Well… see you.” Oikawa murmurs.

But then something else happens that causes him the break in a new wave of tears.

“Did you think you could just slip away?” a low voice speaks right into his ear.

He turns and his watery eyes interlock with Kuroo’s golden orbs.

“You-“ But Oikawa only manages to throw his arms around the other male.

“Of course.” Kuroo says softly, his hands running gently up and down Oikawa’s back. “I needed to see you before you’d leave.”

Oikawa leans back. “But… you… you said you couldn’t-“

“Hey, Tooru. You got with a spiky black-haired hunk who drinks black coffee and you thought he would not come to see you off?” Kuroo wipes the tears away from Oikawa’s cheeks and grins, “I didn’t know you had no faith in me.”

“Stupid.” Oikawa mumbles before pressing his lips against Kuroo’s.

Some random people stare at them, frowning or embarrassed. But Oikawa does not care. He does not care at all. All he wants is right here, right now.

It is his last time for a while to feel Kuroo’s soft lips, to feel his heartbeat in tune to his own.

After that, approximately 7,444 miles, 11,980 kilometers, 6’464 nautical Miles, 13 hours part them. Oikawa in Hollywood, United States of America, following his dream, Kuroo in Tokyo, Japan, doing his sketches and studies.

Slowly, their lips part and Oikawa can see a gentle smile playing its way onto Kuroo’s lips. “I have something for you.”

“No.” Oikawa whispers weakly.

Oikawa had insisted that none of his friends should give him a goodbye gift. No one. It would only tear his heart apart and making it even more difficult to leave his friends behind. _His family._

“No worries.” Kuroo says and gives him a short cardboard roll. “But if I were you I wouldn’t open it while being in public.”

“What is it?” Oikawa says, accepting the roll with shaky hands.

“You will see it soon enough.”

“Mean. I can’t wait so-“

But Kuroo presses a short, deep kiss on Oikawa’s lips and says: “Impatient, hu?”

Oikawa smiles weakly against Kuroo’s lips as Hanamaki clears his throat behind him. “Sorry for interrupting but I think you better go now.”

“Yes, yes…” Oikawa says rather absent minded.

He turns one last time towards his friends and Kuroo moves next to Matsukawa, still holding Oikawa’s hand.

“I know it sounds cheesy but...” Oikawa takes a deep, shaky breath. “I will spread my wings now and fly. So… I wish you well. Please take care. See… see… “ Oikawa bites his lips in an attempt to muffle the sound of an escaping sob. “See you soon.”

Matsukawa and Hanamki nod approvingly while Iwaizumi is still trying to wipe away his tears. Kuroo smiles and slowly he releases Oikawa’s hand and Oikawa loses his touch. The area of skin has grown accustomed to the warmth without Oikawa noticing - and now he already terribly misses Kuroo’s touch.

Oikawa turn and walks toward the gate, passes it and turns one last time.

Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and Kuroo stand there silently, watching him leaving.

“See you.” Oikawa mumbles, knowing that they would not hear his words.

He turns and follows other passengers towards the security check, while pressing Kuroo’s roll against his chest.

 

Oikawa Tooru leaves Japan on March 31st, at 04:10 p.m.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally... Next chapter is the beginning of the main arc of the story.  
> But this means for me... a lot of researches before I can deliver an acceptable chapter. Hope, you liked the "Intro-arc".
> 
> Thanks for all comments, Kudo's, Bookmarks, etc....


	16. Hollywood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa is finally where he wants to be.
> 
> Hollywood… He whispers, completely overwhelmed and unable to process the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: critique is welcomed.  
> Please see notes at the end, thanks.

“… _please remain seated until the aircraft comes to a full stop. Thank you for choosing…”_

Oikawa, seated in an almost empty airplane, watches the airplane slowly making its way to the arrival gate. It is raining outside but this does not matter.

Oikawa is finally where he wants to be.

_Hollywood…_ He whispers, completely overwhelmed and unable to process the moment.

After all these years of dreaming, saving money, taking acting class, taking risks and giving up on other things he finally, _finally,_ is where he always wanted to be. The stage. In front of the camera. On the big screen.

He never wanted it because of the fame or the money. He wanted it because he knew he was good at it. He wanted it because he loved doing it.

And he will most certainly love it even more now that he finally is where all the other great actors and actress are. The place where all the great names belong to: Marilyn Monroe, Meryl Streep, Jack Nicholson or Humphrey Bogart.

Many wished to be here. Many wanted to be here. Unfortunately not because they were essentially good at it. Some were, of course, but those talented people have rarely taken the risk to pursue their dreams. Some were convinced otherwise, others were afraid of the fall and the failure.

There are names in Hollywood that only stands for money. Money is business. Money is life. Money is the world. And those names overshadow the names of those who actually are born with the gift to act – whether it is a drama, a comedy or a psychological thriller.

Oikawa Tooru, however, is different. He is not here for making money in first place. He wants his name to be named along the other great names ahead.

As the airplane comes to a full stop, Oikawa opens the seatbelt and waits until the few people behind him make their way through the row and out into the arrival gate. He takes his bag and the cardroll (he has not opened it yet), sends the flight attendants a bright, thankful smile, causing them to blush and walks toward the immigrations part.

The airport is busy but Oikawa has no need to hurry. First and foremost because he wants to fully arrive here and for that he needs a couple of minutes. Secondly, he would meet his _manager_ right here at the airport. An important meeting for Oikawa and he does not want to rush into it. Thirdly, his _manager_ would give him a ride to his place where he is supposed to meet his roommate; another actor from Japan.

Now, arriving and lining up at the immigration part, he hums tiredly while searching his papers and passport in his bag.

“Mummy.” He hears a little girl speaking, pointing at him. “He looks wow.”

“Sssshhhh, Chiara.” Her mother says, taking her hand. “What did a tell you about you index finger?”

Chiara, the little girl, murmurs something and follows her mother, sheepishly glancing at Oikawa. As their eyes meet, Oikawa sends her a smile and blinks. The girls face turns immediately scarlet and she turns around quickly.

The immigration part is surprisingly easy: the old lady behind the glass checks the documents swiftly, looks at the passport, nods approvingly before finally pressing the stamp onto the page and wishing him a good night.

With a pounding heart, he proceeds and arrives at the luggage drop where he waits. A loud rush of people passes before him from all angles. Though waiting, Oikawa tries to veer away from all of them since the entire airport is filled with people from every race. His flight has been on time but since there are so many people the baggage claim process takes longer than he expected.

It takes a while until he finally sees his big brown suitcase, followed by a smaller. He grabs the both of them, reorganizes his stuff and heads for the washroom.

In said room, he stands before the mirror, checking his face and hair before finally deciding to leave. He checks the time and realizes that his manager might be a little upset since Oikawa wasted a little too much time.

_Be a star. Be the star you are._ He mumbles as he walks towards the exit.

As he walks outside and scans the entire floor, he finds his manager waiting there with one hand on his hip. He has a small scowl on his face but more than anything he seems to be upset to be actually here. His light brown eyebrows are knit together in a face of discontent. He wears a simple long sleeved white shirt with blue denim jeans and black dress shoes. Oikawa recognises a rather intimidating feeling about him but one that also seems to look down upon you. There is also an aura of sophistication and possibly a pompous attitude.

Yes, this is going to be the manager Oikawa has to work with.

Nonetheless, Oikawa walks confidently to him already feeling being blamed for being late. But as Oikawa stops before him and begins to speak, the other males stops him mid-sentence. "Tsukishima Kei."

His voice is deep and somber. It holds a surprisingly powerful feeling to it that even makes Oikawa automatically stop.

Oikawa clears his throat and says happily: “Nice to finally meet you.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow but remains quiet for a moment, allowing his eyes to wander around. “We better get going.” He says, turns and begins to walk towards the door.

“Hey.” Oikawa yells.

Tsukishima stops immediately but does not turn to face him. “Yes?”

“How about helping me out with my stuff?”

“You’re doing just fine.” Tsukishima says deadpan. “Hurry up, we wasted enough time.”

“Wasted?” Oikawa pouts. _What a horrible attitude._

“Yes… what took you so long?”

“I needed some time to arrive.” Oikawa shrugs.

“One hour?”

“Some people need more than others.” Oikawa replies pointedly.

Tsukishima snorts as he gets a taxi for the both of them. The driver, a kind young man, helps Oikawa to load his suitcases into the car, while Tsukishima already sits _inside_ the car, watching them. His face though says nothing but “ _Hurry up!”_

Oikawa snorts displeased but gets in the car. Tsukishima tells the driver the address where to go and remains then silent. Oikawa, on the other hand, does not even bother the break the ice. He himself remains silent and watches instead the city flushing by. His eyes are wide while trying not to blink more than absolutely necessary. He wants to capture as much as possible: restaurant, bars, shops, stores, clubs, amusement parks and more.

The most interesting thing though is the big theater and cinema – the reason why he is here. He shivers instantly as realisation take over him: he is here.

The ride takes about fifty minutes – in which neither of them speaks. As the car comes to a stop, Oikawa gets off while Tsukishima remains inside and pays the fee. By the time he finally gets off, Oikawa has already fully unloaded his suitcases and bags.

“This way.” Tsukishima says curtly and begins to walk.

“It was ok back in the airport.” Oikawa says. “But now I definitely need some help.”

Tsukishima sighs, turns and takes the smaller suitcase. “Better?”

“A bit.” Oikawa frowns. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Well… _this.”_ Oikawa gestures with his finger pretty much at everything on Tsukishima.

“Apparently.” Tsukishima scowls. “How about you? Are you always like _this?”_

“I’m always this friendly.” Oikawa says and blinks. “If that is what you mean.”

“Actually no, but whatever.” Tsukishima turns again and walks toward a massive tower.

“Do I live inside this tower?” Oikawa says matter-of-factly.

“No.”

“Ok… Where then…?”

“Just follow.”

They pass the tower sideways, follow the street about two minutes and stand before and even _bigger_ tower.

“Here.”

“Really?” Oikawa exclaims, almost dropping his bag.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “You signed the contract, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you really read it? It says you will –“

“- share the apartment with another actor from Jap–“

“ – stay with the company.” Tsukishima explains.

“Ou, yes… there was something like this.” Oikawa chuckles. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”

Tsukishima snorts audibly, as he enters the main entrance, doors sliding aside. Oikawa’s follows steadily, his eyes shooting up to see the grand, bright sign: “JP/A Family”

“Japanese Acting Family”.

Oikawa shivers slightly. _Finally…_ He whispers, as he follows Tsukishima who stops before the reception, waiting for him.

“Oikawa Tooru.” Tsukishima says shortly. “Ready to sign in.”

The lady behind the reception nods quickly, sends Oikawa a short smile and takes out some paper and an envelope.

“Welcome to JPA. My name is Clarice. Nice to get to know you.” She begins. “As a short introduction: this is the main building of our agency. The elevator for the agency is the one of the left.” Her right hand gestures to her left. “The next two are the ones for guests, customers and visitors. Please do not use them at any time.”

Oikawa nods.

“On the right side, these are the elevators for all the actors and actresses signed to JPA. They do not stop at the agency part. In other words; you get directly to the apartments, beginning from floor 14. The remaining elevator is being used by our stuff.”

Oikawa nods again.

“In case you own a car – or buy a car – please make sure to let us know in advance. We will provide you with a parking place in- or around the building.”

“Nice.” Oikawa hoots happily, earning a swift annoyed glare from Tsukishima.

“In, specifically the second and third floor, and outside the building, you will find Starbucks, Blenz coffee and restaurants. The fourth floor owns a gym. For further information and instructions, please get in touch with Harry, our gym leader. Are there any questions?”

“No, so far, so good.” Oikawa replies.

“Please fill out this sheet.” Clarice put the formula on the counter, right in front of Oikawa and continues. “With that, you confirm that you will not hand out your key or any other stuff that belongs to JPA to a third party.”

Oikawa accepts the formula and the pen, reads through the lines and ultimately signs it.

Clarice hands him then the envelope. “You will find the keycard in this envelope as well as further informations and instructions about the building. Once again, thank you for choosing JPA Family. We wish you the best of luck.”

Clarice bows.

“Thank you. How kind.” Oikawa chuckles and sends her a flashy smile, causing Clarice to blush.

“Hurry up.” Tsukishima says deadpan, as he presses the button to call the elevator.. “I’d rather have this done before midnight.”

“Are you _really_ always like this?” Oikawa asks bluntly.

“Like… _this?_ ” Tsukishima frowns.

“Yeah, this.” Oikawa repeats.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “Which floor?” He asks instead as the doors slides open.

Oikawa enters the elevator while opening the envelope. “AP 21/7”

“Really?”

Oikawa shows him the keycard.

“Impressive.” Tsukishima says, as he presses the button “21”.

Oikawa wants to ask as he registers the amount of buttons. It counts 25.

“WOW!” He exclaims as the elevator begins to move. “I’m very high up this building.”

“But you share the apartment.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Oikawa says, excitedly humming a weird melody.

“You might not meet him today as he is out”. Tsukishima says and ads under his breath. “Poor man.” He glances sideways at Oikawa.

But Oikawa misses the judging glares from the other male. He is too caught up.

As they finally stay in front of apartment 7, floor 21, Oikawa uses the keycard to open the door. The door swings open, the entrance light turns automatically on.

“Wow.” Oikawa whispers impressed. But he is even more impressed as he recognizes the size of said apartment.

Big is a fair understatement. It is huge.

Two bathroom, one for each of them, three bedroom (one for sleepovers), kitchen, living room and a room they would use for meetings and such. Oikawa bedroom is one the left side of the hallway, whereas his roommate is on the opposite side.

“That’s nice.” He says happily. “Very nice indeed.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” Tsukishima deadpans. “Get your stuff in the room and then meet me in the living room. We have stuff to talk about.”

Oikawa follows Tsukishima’s order without hesitation: he drops his stuff quickly in his (big) bedroom and heads into the living room.

Tsukishima already sits there, some papers spread out all over the huge table.

For the next hour, Tsukishima talks about the schedule for the coming week. Oikawa is allowed to have a day off tomorrow – as it is Sunday anyways. On Monday morning he would have several short meetings regarding his acting classes since he has to master them here as well, regardless whether he has taken them already or not.

After that, he would be doing different short classes such as voice acting, recordings and such as it important to not only act in front of a camera (or audience) perfectly. The voice needs to be trained, too.

The rest of the week would be decided after the first bunch of meetings. Oikawa nod quickly and though he tries to listen carefully, he feels exhaustion slowly but surely creeping up and taking over.

It is past midnight when Tsukishima finally concludes his monologue. “It’s really important that you always keep me posted. I need to know whether you attend some class or actually acting on a live stage and such.”

“Understood.”

“I do hope I can rely on you.”

“Of course you can.” Oikawa says. “Do I look like someone that can’t be trusted?”

“Do I really have to answer this?” Tsukishima pushes his chair back.

“Mean.” Oikawa huffs.

Tuskishima shoots him a scathing glare

Oikawa lifts his hands in apology and says with flourish: “You can truly rely on me.”

“Good…” Tsukishima walks towards the front door, Oikawa following. “Well, see you on Monday.”

“Of course.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and leaves the apartment without another word, obviously too tired for another judging glare.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞  
 

Oikawa wakes up early the next morning. “Good morning Hollywood.” He mumbles, standing in front of the window, simply enjoying the view over the city.

His eyes wander off for a while before they linger on Kuroo’s cardboard roll. His heart arches lightly just by the mere thought of Kuroo being so far away. He has not opened it though, too scared what he actually might find inside.

He takes his cellphone instead and begins to type:  
 

_Oizumahaya <3 <3 <3 <3_   
  


_Safely arrived ^-^_  
_Who misses me already?? :’(_  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:01 a.m.}  
_

_Yahaba: Welcome to Amercia!  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:02 a.m.}  


_Yahaba: How was your flight?  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:02 a.m.}  
 

 

_Good morning “neighbor” though we’re not actual neighbors lol  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:04 a.m.}  
 

_Flight was nice, no crying baby’s onboard…  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:04 a.m.}  
 

_Makki: ‘Cause you were the one who cried…  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:06 a.m.}  
 

_Yahaba: Sounds like Oikawa ^-^  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:07 a.m.}  
 

_Mean…… -.-  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:08 a.m.}  
 

_Iwa-chan: Stop trash talking, Shittykawa…  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:09 a.m.}  
 

_Awww… Iwa-chan… you surley miss me <3 <3_  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:09 a.m.}  
_

_Iwa-chan: I’m enjoying the silence of MY apartment._  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:10 a.m.}  
_

_Is that so?_  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:12 a.m.}  
_

_Iwa-chan: I’m glad though that your flight went well. :)_  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:12 a.m.}  
_

_Mattsun: Yup, same here._  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:12 a.m.}  
_

_Yahaba: Likewise…_  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:13 a.m.}  
_

_Makki: Here too ^^_  
_{April 1 st, 20..; 08:13 a.m.}  
_

Oikawa stares at the display and feels his eyes water. He sniffs and simply text _“Thank you, guys”_ back, before he opens the chat with Kuroo.  
 

_Safely arrived…  
_ _BIG KISS…  
_ _{April 1_ st, 20..; 08:18 a.m.}  
 

He puts his cellphone aside (since Kuroo’s texts tend to be rather late) as his eyes fall again on Kuroo’s gift. _Better I wait for an hour or two… Not sure if I’m ready for it…_

And so he heads for the shower first.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞  
 

The rest of his free day, Oikawa spends mostly with unpacking and organizing his room and bathroom. After that, he goes for a quick walk, explores the building swiftly, talks to Harry and signs in for the gym, finds some nice little shops nearby and figures that the building has even a room that is apparently being used by dancers only.

“I might use it as well every now and then.” He mumbles as he presses the button for the lift.

Among the women of the building, the rumor about a very handsome young man – obviously Oikawa - that arrived last night has already spread. By lunchtime, most of the staff is fully aware of his presence and during afternoon Oikawa feels their staring glares.

Flattering, of course. And yet he has already someone waiting for him.

Oikawa fishes out his cell phone, checking the latest texts he had received from Kuroo. _I still have to open the roll…_ He thinks as he leaves the lift. _But rather than opening the roll, I’d love to get to know my roommate. He’s been out all night. Or did he sneak in while I was showering?_

Oikawa takes the keycard, unlocks the door and enters the apartment.

Music.

Not loud. But Oikawa can hear music.

So his roommate is _awake._

But the door is closed.

_Should I knock against the door?_ Oikawa wonders and takes off his shoes.

But said door opens and a young man comes out. “I thought I did hear the door closing. Nice to meet you, Oikawa Tooru.” The man says and bows his head slightly. “Akaashi Keiji.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being late as I was pretty busy wih... well, life? Tokyo's keeping me busy as well as I have several test coming up soon. So... I think the next update will be some time in May. Please apologize.


	17. JPA & Akaashi Keiji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “JPA is a good company but the CEO won’t hesitate to terminate your contract if you don’t meet his expectations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critique & feedback is always welcomed.  
> Please see at the end for more notes...

When the guy named Akaashi appears before Oikawa there is a hint of a transparent yet alluding personality to him. He has dull yet narrow green eyes which draw the person in front of him to look towards him. There is a lot to his appearance but in a mysterious form as it matches with his currently deadpan-yet-kind face. The corners of his mouth looks as if they are used towards a neutral face usually on display.

Yet there is a warm feeling towards him as if he was constantly at peace and in full control of the situation around him.

With a slight turn of his head a prominent jawline stands out along with his black and flowing hair displaying in a downward swooping image. He has a coolish warm exterior to him which again draws Oikawa slightly closer to attempt and examine him more. An effect only Kuroo had managed to cause.

Akaashi’s build is soft yet coarse like that of a strong wave with slender yet well muscle accented body and delicate hands to match. Oikawa inches closer to him again wanting to unlock more secrets about this character.

Without having another word spoken yet, Oikawa can already tell that this young man in front of him is talented in his very own way. Furthermore, Akaashi Keiji may be the perfect partner and roommate. A fact he is terribly grateful for.

Two of Oikawa’s finger flash up in lightning speed: “Oikawa Tooru. Nice to meet you. I do hope we get along… but I can’t believe that I’ve already found someone who is as handsome as I am. Hopefully, this won’t cause a rivalry between us…”

Unlike Tsukishima, Akaashi remains composed towards such an introduction: “Not in the least.” He says and adds. “But I shall be grateful to receive such a compliment.”

Oikawa blinks: “It seems we’ll get along.”

Akaashi nods quickly: “It’s nice to share this huge apartment with someone else. It’s been a while already since Ryoya moved out.”

“Ryoya?” Oikawa wonders. “Never heard that name. Who’s he?”

“I suppose you will never hear of him.” Akaashi says and crosses his arms. “He is talented, certainly, yet not talented enough for the company.”

“So… he got kicked out?”

“In lack of a better word – yes.” Akaashi replies. “Many of those you enter this building leave it sooner than they think. And most of them not because they achieved what they dreamed of.”

Oikawa gulps.

“JPA is a good company but the CEO won’t hesitate to terminate your contract if you don’t meet his expectations.”

“You mean Nekomata Yasufumi?” Oikawa asks.

“Yes.” Akaashi nods again. “The Founder of JPA”

Oikawa remains silent for the space of a few breaths. “ _Nekomata surely knows what he wants”_ he thinks and lets out a short breath. “Well, I suppose I have to surpass his expectations then.”

“Surpass?” Akaashi raises an eyebrow.

“Yes… because only then I can be a star. The star I want to be.” Oikawa answers. Pride accompanies his voice. “I don’t just aim for being _any_ kind of actor. I’m aiming for being the one. The one that people look up to, maybe even the one that inspires other, yet unborn talents to bloom. I want to be the one that helps other people to understand and realize their own talent – and all that through my acting. Through my passion for what I’m doing.”

“You’re definitely not as hopeless of lost as you appeared just a few seconds ago when you came in through the very door behind you.” Akaashi says as he points towards the kitchen.

Oikawa follows, saying: “I hope I didn’t mislead you with my very first impression.”

“Not really.” Akaashi details, soft clacks accompanies Akaashi’s voice as he places two glasses on the table. “But as I just told you: many people enter this building not knowing how hard it actually is to remain within these walls. The company “spends” a great deal of money in us.”

“Spends?”

Akaashi nods: “It sounds nicer.”

“Does it? Seriously, who came up with this? It’s sounds hilariously pathetic.” Oikawa wholly curses his tongue for giving those words shape towards a company, he has just been hired. “I mean.” He corrects. “You, it is obvious that they invest their money in us, don’t they?”

“It is. But still, make sure you keep those words at bay whenever you talk to anyone else within these building.” Akaashi says and pours in some liquid in both glasses. “It might do you well.”

“I will.” Oikawa complies as he shifts slightly in his seat. “You seem to know quite a bit, don’t you?”

As Akaashi only nodded, Oikawa ads: “How long have you been here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Why would I mind?” comes the audible grimace from Akaashi and takes the glass. “I think it’s been now a year.”

“A year?” Oikawa exclaims, seemingly the best response he could come up with.

“More or less.” Akaashi replies. “I took some acting classes here as well. But before that, the CEO seemed not quite to know whether he should keep me or not.”

“How come?”

“Well, he wasn’t sure in which part I could best be used… film, stage play, voice acting…”.

Oikawa groans inwardly: _A multitaltent…_ He remains quiet however. Akaashi takes it as a sign to continue.

“So one day he came to see me. Personally. I was rather surprised because I was just on my way out. In jogging pants he pretty much dragged into a meeting and asked me – in front of some other people I didn’t really know – several questions.”

“What did he ask you?”

“ _What do you prefer most,_ for instance, or _what do you think suits you best?”_ the other male says. “All in all, I was less than fifteen minutes in said meeting. After that, I was dismissed and the next day I received their offer.”

“They offered you…

“… to support my acting career, yes.”

“But don’t they support each and everyone?”

Akaashi sighs: “Of course they do, but not each and everyone in the same way. For some they offer private lesson, for others campaigns to participate in. And the amount of many differs, too.”

“Isn’t that a little unfair?” Oikawa comments slowly.

“At some point, yes. But mostly not. See it as a complete different form of encouragement.” Akaashi answers and takes a sib. “The more they support you, the harder it gets to meet their expectations. One of the reasons why a number of people struggle to find ground here. At times it appears, as if they take things for granted. And that’s when most get kicked out. Nothing is for granted here. In this business, as in many others, you’ve got to work your way up.”

“Well, then I think I understand why the CEO is rather tough to convince.” Oikawa says and takes a sib, too.

“Right. We had people arriving who behaved as if they were already stars on the red carpet.” Akaashi sighs but Oikawa notices a slight sign of amusement. “These people were kicked often within their first month of arrival. One woman actually spent just one night here.”

Oikawa laughs. “What went wrong? Was she already too much of a Megan Fox?”

“Apparently.” Akaashi shrugs, keeping his opinions at bay as his mouth concentrates on drinking.

The both of them talked for another hour in which Oikawa realizes that Akaashi is a nice guy. He does not like the word “nice” so much. However, in Akaashi’s case, Oikawa finds it appropriate.

“I think it’s about time for me to call in the day.” Oikawa yawns.

“Jet lag?”

“A bit.” Oikawa replies tiredly. “But I also need some time to let everything really sink in. I’ve seen and heard a lot the past hours.”

“Understandable.” Akaashi nods in agreement. “Well then, wish you good night and tomorrow a good start.”

“Same to you.” Oikawa leaves the kitchen and heads towards his room. Closing the door, he leans against the wooden wall and closes his eyes for a few seconds.

_Tomorrow._

He opens his eyes again.

Tomorrow is the day he has been waiting for so long. Things do change over time no matter how long it might take. Some things change for the good and grow; some things change for the bad and wilt. And some change might never come.

And Oikawa is willing to let another change add a new colour to his life.

_Tomorrow._ He thinks, walking towards the window and peering into the night beyond the glass. An ocean of light lay before him. Hollywood.

As he turns, his eyes come to rest upon the card roll which Kuroo had given him at the airport in Japan. His heart arches as the image of Kuroo creeps up his mind and he reaches out for his cell phone.

   
 _Have you met Akaashi now?  
_ _{April 2 end, 20..; 09:13 p.m.}_

 

_Yes, I just talked to him for a while. He seems to be really nice and is super talented. I think we’ll definitely get along.  
_ _{April 2 end, 20..; 10:31 p.m.}_

_  
__Missing you… :’(  
_ _{April 2_ end, 20..; 10:33 p.m.}

   
He sighs as his eyes linger on the card roll yet again. “I think I’m not ready to open it”. He mumbles and he checks the papers instead he had received from Tsukishima last night. After a while, however, he literally tosses his cares and the papers aside with a flick of his wrist, overlooking the fluttering of sheets falling somewhere behind him.

It can wait.

In a swift manoeuvre he is on the bed, taking his cell phone again and waiting for Kuroo’s reply. By the time his cell phone vibrates slightly in his hand, he has already fallen fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry - so much time has passed since the last update. Things have been busy as of late which was/is why I hardly found time to sit down, gather my thoughts and type them out. But finally I had some time and I used it well I think. The chapter is not as long as detailed as I wanted it to be - but at the same time I really wanted to give a sign that the work on this story hasn't come to a full stop.  
> I don't know when the next chapter will be uploaded but at least I'm already having some notes and ideas prepared for what's coming next.
> 
> Thank you once again for reading and your patience!


	18. Role Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So… you killed him?” Kindaichi finishes, eyes gloomy almost miserable beyond belief, saving Oikawa the labour of delivering the news himself.
> 
> “Yes, I did.” Oikawa noted, emphasizing his words with another dreadful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critique and feedback is welcomed as usual :)

“No, hey, why did you stop?” Oikawa whines.

They’re lying the bed, Oikawa settled against Kuroo’s front, his chin propped against Kuroo’s chest. His palms rest on either side of Kuroo. The other male has just been reading aloud a very old copy of “The Lord of the Rings”, but Oikawa seems to struggle with actually paying attention.

“Because you’re not paying attention what I’m actually telling you.” Kuroo huffs.

“Well, you’re not telling me… you’re reading, aren’t you?”

“Thanks for the correction, sensei.” Kuroo replies overly polite, causing Oikawa to giggle. “Why so polite all of sudden? That’s very unusual for you.”

“Excuse me?” Kuroo pouts. “I’m always this kind.”

Chuckling, Oikawa takes the book though keeping his thumb tucked between the pages to mark Kuroo’s place: “Maybe I should continue…?”

“Maybe not?” Kuroo says and faster than Oikawa could manage to move, Kuroo steals a kiss.

“W-what was that for?” Oikawa asks irritated.

“It’s an encouragement.” Kuroo blinks and ads: “And to wet them since you’re soothing voice might dry them out.”

“M-my soothing voice?” Oikawa bites back a smile while his heart pounding in his chest idly. He wonders if Kuroo might even be able to hear the heavy drum of it. He then clears his throat: “Well, then… shall I begin?”

“Yes, please.” Kuroo purrs and closes his eyes.

“Promise me to not fall asleep.”

“I will try my very best.”

Oikawa huffs indignantly at the remark and turns the book. A heartbeat later, he begins to read and although Kuroo seems to actually pay attention for a while, he soon drifts off and is fast asleep. Oikawa cannot help but to smile at the sight. He puts the book aside and plants a kiss on Kuroo soft lips.

Smiling, Oikawa drops his head against Kuroo’s shoulder and lets his eyes fall closer. Soon after, he is slowly drifting off, safe and inconceivable happy in the knowledge that by the time he will wake Kuroo would still be there beside him…  


∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞  


Oikawa wakes before his alarm clock. He turns to the side, hand reaching out. His lashes flutter in confusion when he cannot feel the warmth of someone else’s body pressed against his side. He slides his palms across the sheets and realizes with a sinking feeling that the other half of the bed is empty.

Of course it is.

Kuroo is in Tokyo, not in Hollywood where he, Oikawa Tooru, is. 7,444 miles, 11,980 kilometers, 6’464 nautical Miles, 13 hours part them.

Oikawa groans as he feels a sting right through his heart. He sighs and rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. _I better get used to it… soon._

As his eyes wander to check the time, he realizes he still has about forty minutes to go before finally getting up, taking a shower and getting ready for the day. And though he feels the level of his inner excitement raising, he stills stares at the empty half of his bed.

After another fifteen minutes he gets up, still early, and heads for a hot shower to clear his mind and washes away all these obfuscating feelings. And while the warm water is pouring over him, he thinks about nothing else than either Kuroo or his upcoming meeting with Tsukishima and the some other people of JPA. Though excited, some parts of him would rather go back to bed and curl up under the blanket.

Nonetheless, after a while, he finds himself nicely dressed, hair beautifully done and absolutely ready to go and talk about his future business with JPA and, more precisely, Hollywood.

“I’m not just doing this for me.” He reminds himself as he watches himself in the mirror. He nods then and leaves the room for a quick breakfast.

The dorm is quiet. Akaashi seems to be still sleeping. Let alone the weekends, Oikawa has gotten used to lonely breakfasts. Iwaizumi usually leaves in the unearthly hours of the morning, sometimes even before dawn which left him enjoying the breakfast with the only person left: himself. And this was by far not the worst person.

So he enjoys a nice breakfast – provided by JPA and put into the kitchen during the night – and checks his cell phone.

  
It’s not even been a week and you’re already missing me?   
{April 2end, 20..; 11:13 p.m.}  
  


Oikawa snorts. How does Kuroo even deserve someone like Oikawa?  


_No, I don’t. I’m too busy to actually have time for stuff like that…_  
{April 3rd, 20..; 07:33 a.m.  
  


Before the clock hits eight, he leave the dorm and heads for the room where the meeting is supposed to take place. Though slightly nervous, he is nothing but filled up with excitement. And though the way from his dorm to the meeting room takes less than two or three minutes, he feels as if he has been walking for hours.

Confidently, he opens the door and heads in.

Except for a young woman who prepares some papers and stuff, no one else is inside.

“Good morning.” He says happily.

The woman, obviously Japanese, bows lightly and says in a perfect English without much of an accent: “Good morning, Tooru.”

_Hm… I like how friendly people greet one in the morning._ He thinks.

“The meeting will begin in about ten minutes.” She continues. “Please have a seat on left side.”

“As you wish.” Oikawa says flashy and blinks.

Though absolutely professional, the woman can barely hide the light shade of a rosy pink on her cheeks. Silently, she does all the rest she has to do and leaves just in time before Tsukishima and some other people arrive. Nekomata Yasufumi among them.

Before the meeting even begins, Oikawa already pins a mental note for his diary:

_The meeting was… interesting… but it turned out to be more like court room session than anything else. Plenty of “do’s” and “don’t’s”, things they expect me to do and what I can expect in return. Luckily I have trained my poker face so well that I could even hide an enormous yawn. Tsukishima, on the other side, wasn’t bad either. He kept nodding and nodding but wore this constant mask that spoke a whole different language: if you get me into trouble, you’ll be doomed…_

_I think all he needs is a girlfriend… he doesn’t look like someone who gets laid very often so that would explain the lack of… well, a lot!_

_Anyway, back to the meeting… . Nekomata is definitely not someone to be messed with. He appears to be well-known for everything that involves acting – whether in front of behind the camera. And behind the camera means also “how to run such a business successful”! Though friendly, he holds a tremendous, sometimes frightening aura. Whenever he spoke, the room would fall silent in an instant._

_So, the morning was basically a lot of talking about what am I allowed to do and what not – including all the things I can get once I’ve met their exceptions. After that, we had an early lunch together so that we would have a chance to get to know each other privately, too. That was interesting, though I decided to leave the talking to the higher-ups._

_Tsukishima did not even bother to say a single word – or even share a fair amount of laughter._

_The afternoon… was… SUPER FUN! And Interesting… Tuskishima told me that I would’ve to do some role play’s together wit some other players. Some have joined the business a while ago…_

“Good morning….”

“It’s afternoon, Duncan.” Akaashi deadpans.

“Is it?” Duncan exclaims, eyes shooting forth and back. “Yes, it seems to be quite bright outside. Ou dear… time flies… Well then… we better get started!”

Duncan McGown, forty-three, is considered as the loudest member of the entire business – but also one with the biggest influences on important decisions. If Duncan found someone not good enough, said person would usually leave the business within a day or two.

“Ok, lads…” Duncan clapped his hands. “I’m gonna tell you something so pay attention to every single word… understood? Every single word even if it’s absolutely nonsense. Let’s pretend for a second I’m gonna talk about… about… about the weather. Yes, you heard right, the weather. So! While I’m gonna talk about the weather I, Duncan,… or my eyes… yes, my eyes, don’t want to see anoyne… ANYONE… yawning! If my eyes see someone who dares to yawn… “Duncan pauses dramatically. “We’ll find his contract terminated!”

The room falls silent for the split of a second.

“Duncan…” comes the audible grimace from Akaashi.

“Why are you even here, Keiji??” Duncan turns and faces Akaashi.

“You asked me to help you out?” Akaashi replies sourly. “And I, the kind person I am, did not turn down your request though I kind of already regret that.”

Duncan slaps his forehead. “Ou, yes, I did! Must’ve slipped my mind.”

Oikawa chuckls but remains quite.

“Anyway!” Duncan yells. “What I want you to is… pay attention. PAY ATTENTION! We’re gonna do some role play… uh, yes, role play. This will decide whether you should keep following your dream to be an actor… or… not.” He coughs. “However! It does not necessarily you’ll be kicked out in case you fail this task. No. Things don’t go this fast. Maybe… and I say maybe… the company wants you to do voice acting instead. Or work for the visual department and become something like this… this… Keiji, what’re they called?”

“Model?”

“YES!” Duncan claps his hands once again. “M-O-D-E-L-S! Something I could do easily – if I had more free time.”

No remark.

“Anyway! Brenda!”

A woman, wearing glasses, steps forward. “Yes?”

“What are you good at?” Duncan asks bluntly and begins to scrutinize as if she was a piece of cake he decided to eat.

“I think I’m-“

“You THINK?” Duncan exclaims irritated. “You think? Why do you think?”

“Because that’s what we do?”

“Wrong!” Duncan falls, literally _falls_ to the ground – and is back on his feet just in a blink of an eye. “Think? Don’t you know what you’re good at?”

“Yes, but…” Brenda hesitates.

“Yes?” Duncan pushes and lessens the space between them.

“That doesn’t mean that I’m really good at it.”

“Ah… there we go.” A wide smile make its way onto his lips. “So you’re shit?!”

Oikawa has to blink twice to fully process if he really heard this word coming out of the other male’s mouth.

“No…” Brenda replies weakly. “But maybe they think differently. I might be good at something but other people might be better or think differently.”

“I see from where you’re coming from…” Duncan face falls serious in an instant and as he raises his voice to address each and everyone in the room: “All of you, listen up. Listen carefully! Do _you_ really care what someone else _thinks_ about how good or bad you’re at something? Do you really do so?”

Some people nod slowly, unsure whether they need to say something or not.

“Then, please… these people should leave because it’d be a terrible waste of time to teach them something.”

Shock.

No movement.

Oikawa hesitantly looks to either side. Brenda, who stands right beside him, seems to have shrunk even more and someone reminds now of a dwarf than a woman.

“Ok… let me… tell you something, ok?” Duncan says, voice unnaturally calm and composed. “There are over seven billion people living on this planet. Seven billion. And you, you are one out of seven billion people. And you were born with a gift – although there were seven billion _other_ options that could’ve been born this way. With this gift all of you seem to have. It is then natural that, though gifted, you will meet one someone who’s just slightly better you. Who can ran just a little faster; who can jump just a little higher.”

Some people nod in approval.

“But… this all doesn’t matter. It does not matter as long as you know… as long as all of you know that you’re good at what you’re doing. That you don’t forget the talent you were born and gifted with.”

Duncan holds his breath for a second as he turns again towards Brenda. “So… let me ask you again: what are you good at?”

Oikawa can see her trembling, but she manages to find her voice and form the words for her answer: “Drawing!”

“THERE WE GO!” Duncan jumps. “That’s what I wanted to hear!” He turns and points at someone else. “You, what are you good at?”

“Cooking!”

“Correct!” he jubilates and then turns towards Akaashi.”And you’re good at making strange faces.”

“Hah?” Akaashi snorts.

Duncan chuckles and turns then to face Oikawa. “You!” He scans Oikawa from the bottom the top. Once.

The rooms grows silent.

Twice.

Oikawa can hear Akaashi sigh.

A third time as he then clears his throat: “Can I just say- and this is _veeeery_ important, I need everyone to SHUT UP - .”

“You’re the only talking.” Akaashi coughs.

“ - that I. _Love. Your. **Hair**.” _

“Thank you.” Oikawa says happily.

“What do you usually do?” Duncan leans in to have a closer look at Oikawa brown hair. “They look fabulous. Like mine did… a long time ago.”

“I just take greatly care of them.” Oikawa replies. “And use different products.”

“Do you have any advice for an old man like me?”

“You’re not old.”

“Very flattering.” Duncan hoots. “Anyway… you must be Oikawa Tooru.”

“Yes.” Oikawa replies fondly.

“What are you good at… besides looking good?” Duncan says curtly.

“Dancing.”

“A dancer?”

“Yes.”

“Can you dance, now?”

“Give me a pole and I will do whatever you want me to do.” Oikawa purrs.

There is a small silence between the two of them that remains for a few seconds before Duncan blinks and clears his throat: “This guy knows how to work. I like that! I really like that!”

Oikawa boys lightly. “Please to hear that.”

“Enough, enough.” Duncan laughs. “Otherwise I feel like cheating on my wife.”

And for another twenty minutes, Duncan keeps on talking to each induvial in the room – except for Akaashi and two, three others Duncan had asked to help him out. And while everyone has their own time to talk, Duncan constantly reminds them to pay attention – over and over and over again.

Once done, he walks toward the stage and lets himself fall on the wooden ground. “Haaa… that’s a lot of talking. But interesting… very interesting indeed. Based on what you said, I can say which ways you might be taking after today’s practice. Some leave this room and will not return to it as “an actor, an actress”.”

Some swallow heavily as they let the word sink in.

“But as I said before: this might not be the end of your career. So… keep going. Keep pushing. And show me why the company should stick to you.”

_Of course I will show you…_ Oikawa thinks.

“Alright then… scripts!” Duncan exclaims and one of the guys, Adrian, hurries over and hands him several papers. Duncan then continues. “Well, let’s get some work done, right? So… it’ll be as follows. I have four different scripts, and there’s nine people. Adding Akaashi, Adrian and Jezz, we’re exactly twelve people…. ecluding me. Twelve people, divide four… that makes three people in a group. Such a math genius, aren’t I?”

No comment.

“Anyway! I’ll make the groups. Kindaichi… Kindaichi.. who’s you’re best friend… Oikawa? Alright, Oikawa! And… Akaashi! You’re group number one. You’ll get…” Duncan flips quickly through the pages. “James Bond: Spectre!”

And while Akaashi goes and gets the pages, Oikawa gaze wanders around to finally fall upon Kindaichi, who quickly nods. Kindaichi is quite tall for his age, being the youngest but also the tallest member in this room. He has dark hair that sticks straight up while his face seems to be set in a scowl most of the time, though it's more of a passive one.

“Nice to meet you.” Kindaichi says, voice polite.

“Hey there.” Oikawa smiles. “You’re fairly tall, aren’t you? Is the air any different up there?”

“Not much I think. But you’re not much smaller either.” Kindaichi replies, voice still polite.

As Akaashi returns, he hands them the script over and sighs heavily.

“What’s the matter?” Kindaichi inquires.

“Of course it had to be James Bond… and of course it had to be a scene which isn’t that easy to act for “non-professionals”.”

“Which scene is it then?” Oikawa flips through the pages now. “Ou…”

“The torture scene”. Akaashi deadpans. “Duncan loves to take such scenes…”

“Well, why don’t we show him then how good we already are?” Oikawa says playfully, two fingers flash up.

“I agree.” Kindaichi nods slightly to show his approval. “So who’s going to be Bond?”

“You.” Oikawa chuckles. “I’d love to be the bad guy.”

“And that’s because…?” Akaashi investigates, raising an eyebrow.

“…because they’re always far more interesting to play.”

“I see… so this leaves the Bond-Girl to me..?” Akaashi scowls. “Wonderful.”

“Hey, that’s quite an appropriate role for someone like you.” Oikawa argues.

Akaashi sends him a death glare, but remains quiet as Duncan speaks up again. “Alright! Now… the moment has come. You have now one hour to prepare yourself. To prepare your group for the play. After one hour, we’re going to see them all. One after another, ok? I’m here in case if there’s any questions. One hour! START!”

_So we had then one hour to prepare ourselves. Some looked rather puzzled and helpless – they appeared to not know where to actually begin. Though I wanted to help them or give them a friendly advice, I was not allowed to since I had to stick to my group._

_And my group was great!_

_Akaashi, though he had almost nothing to say – besides acting all shocked and giving the impression he is suffering, too – is a master when it comes to facial expressions. The emotions he displays on his faces leave you breathless and you will not doubt one second it’s all just “a play”. You really think he is feeling this right now, he is suffering right now. That’s thoroughly amazing! Something I need him to help me out._

_Kindaichi, on the other hand, may not be as talented as Akaashi, but he has a great understanding when it comes down to how to pronounce things appropriately, and how to deliver the line smoothly without giving too much pressure on insignificant words. Before we sat together, he wandered off, read the script three, four times silently and then came back. He is a mastermind when it comes to memorizing. So all he had to do from that point onwards was – focus on acting, and acting alone!_

_Me, on the other side, sat in a corner, took out my cell-phone and went on to watch the scene twice, starring_ _Christoph Waltz_ _:_ _Ernst Stavro Blofeld/Franz Oberhauser_ _. I wanted to have a clue how he did the scene; and though I pretty much absorbed everything I could see, I wanted to try something different._

_Once done, we came together and… we’ll played the scene several times. We added and skipped stuff that we found is not necessary for the scene. Duncan just came once to check how things were doing – but as he saw we had no problems, he left; and I could see him smiling._

_After an hour, everyone seemed – more or less – enough prepared to finally show what they got. And it had to be good, even perfect._

_Brenda’s group had a scene from the film “Carol”. Great film, absolutely in love with it. The scene they had to do was nicely done though I could see that, especially Brenda, was on edge throughout the play. They did well and achieved, generally spoken, good feedback._

_Adrian’s group, however, had difficulties to deliver the scene they were given to (Schindler’s list). Of course, the scene itself was difficult. However, I had the feeling that they either put not their heart into or that they seemed not to understand, what they actually said. They received negative to mixed response._

_Originally, my group was up to be the next but Duncan changed as he wanted to have the voice acting group first. (Maybe because his infamous love for torture scene – keep the best until the end). They did “Sleeping Beauty”. This play caused a lot of discussions. Mostly praised, was Jezz the one who actually did most of the work – though he has done this kind of stuff already several time. He did marvelous, of course, but some were irritated as to why the other two members chose to leave this part to him. I mean, we were allowed to split parts and such…_

_But then, finally, it was our turn… I couldn’t have waited any longer…_

The three of them walk onto the stage. Kindaichi takes a chair and sits down, since he – as James Bond – is the one who is going to be tortured. Akaashi, as the bond girl, has to stay next to Oikawa, though the decided that Oikawa – as Blofeld – is free to walk around and is not – like in the film – bound to the chair.

The room falls quiet and Oikawa breathe in one last time while reminding himself: “ _Be a star. Be the star you are.”_

And then, they begin:

“So, James.” He says, voice nothing but a whisper but loud enough that it would fill out the entire room. “I'm going to penetrate to where you are. To the inside of your head.” He pauses and turns slowly to face Kindaichi. The atmosphere in the room grows sinister and heavy. Everyone catches their breath. “Now, the first probe will play with your sight… your hearing… and your balance, just with the subtlest of manipulations.” “Well, get on with it then.” Kindaichi presses, voice filled with disgust. “Nothing can be as painful as listening to you talk.” “All right.” Oikawa lessens the space between them dangerously and leans over Kindaichi. “Let's begin.”

And as he turns, another voice speaks up. Akaashi’s eyes falls upon the blatant enemy, namely Oikawa, while his voice is growing desperate, fearing what he was getting at with his inquiry. “Why are you doing this?”

Oikawa smiles. But there is no warmth in his smile. “You probably know that James here lost his parents when he was young.” Oikawa details. Akaashi takes the cue to remain quiet from there on out.

“But did you know that it was my father who helped him through this difficult time?” Oikawa voice reels momentarily in recollection of those days. “Over the course of two winters he taught him to ski, and climb, and hunt. He soothed the wounds of the poor little blue-eyed orphan.” Oikawa drives his cold stare right into Kindaichi’s eyes as he continues. “Asked me to treat him as a _brother_. My little brother... They formed quite an attachment.”

“So… you killed him?” Kindaichi finishes, eyes gloomy almost miserable beyond belief, saving Oikawa the labour of delivering the news himself.

“Yes, I did.” Oikawa noted, emphasizing his words with another dreadful smile. “You know what happens when a cuckoo hatches inside another bird's nest?”

“Yes.” Kindaichi states matter-of-factly, eyes honed upon Oikawa. “It forces the other eggs out.”

“Yes.” Oikawa nods. “Well, this cuckoo made me realize my father's life had to end. In a way, he's responsible for the path I took. So, thank you.”

_“Cuckoo.”_

The room is absolutely silent. Everyone is drawn to their lips, their acting, their play, that it takes a second or two until realization hits them.

Duncan is the first who jumps from his seat: “Magnificent!” He cheers. “Brilliant! Absolutely astonishing!”

The rest stands up to and begin to applaud, while Duncan continues to speak: “Amazing! That’s the best role play I’ve seen in a while. The three of you did exactly what I wanted to see… you made it your own. You didn’t just give me a good copy of the original actors. You were breathing it as if it was your own! The three of you, tomorrow morning, in my office.”

“In his office?” Kindaichi whispers, as he follows Oikawa and Akaashi out of the room minutes later. Duncan had dismissed them for the rest of the day, saying they were free to do whatever they wanted to do most.

“That means a lot.” Akaashi explains. “To put it simple: it’s the fastest way in.”

“In?”

“To get role’s that matter, like in a theatre or film.”

“What?!”Kindaichi has a hard time to keep his voice down. “Seriously? But we’re only at the beginning.”

“No.” Oikawa argues and stands still. “We’re not just at the beginning. We mastered the beginning already with today’s play. Now we’re heading for more. Now, we’re heading for role’s!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: I do not own any of the James Bond: Spectre scripts. They belong to the rightful owners.
> 
> 2: Hope you had fun reading it - it was something I longed for to do for a while now. I couldn't decide what scene they should be doing but I felt James Bond would be nice. 
> 
> 3: I don't know when the next chapter will be updated as the next two weeks are going to be ridiculously busy.


	19. Downtown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title reads: JPA – Training program/Test week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been 84 years….  
> Ok, first off… I’m so sorry to keep you waiting for not only two but three month. Complicated business and a lot of work were the reasons why I just couldn’t find time to just sit down and write. I wish to continue and bring this story to an end – because there are still so many ideas spinning around in my head. 
> 
> From now on, I try to upload at least once a month. I think that should be working…  
> Once again, thank you so much for your patience. Please forgive any mistakes – I’m not good at spotting them…
> 
> Critique is always welcomed and appreciated. Leave them in the comments below - thank you.

_Things do change. And some things change faster than one could expect._

Oikawa and Akaashi walk back to their dorm. Once inside, Oikawa lets himself onto the couch. A long, deep sigh leave his parted lips and he closes his eyes. He recalls today’s events and their each respective outcome.

Tomorrow. Meeting Duncan in his office.

“Yes!” He exclaims, raising his fist.

“Yes?” Akaashi frowns. “Are you mad, ill or something else the matter?”

“The matter is tomorrow’s event.” Oikawa explains passionately. “The meeting in Duncan’s office.”

“And?”

“It’s tomorrow. I have to wait until tomorrow.” Oikawa voices his regret. “That’s the matter.”

“My my.” Akaashi sighs, heading for the refrigerator. “Now the great king has to wait for a night before –“

“I get my role.” Oikawa finishes proudly.

“Things have not been decided as of yet.” Akaashi says. “Just because you’ve been invited doesn’t mean-“

“IT means a lot.” Oikawa interrupts, leaving an open mouthed Akaashi to the mark. “It means he acknowledges my talent. That’s all I need.”

“I see.” Akaashi nods. “Well, it’ll be interesting for sure. I do wonder why I have to attend said meeting as well.”

“You’ve never asked for roles?” Oikawa wonders, eyes honed upon Akaashi.

“Why would I?” Akaashi mutters.

“What?!” Oikawa is back on his feet. “You’ve been here for a while now but you never asked for any roles?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Mainly because I want to get better first before actually asking for roles.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Oikawa states irritated. “You’re exceptionally good, let alone perfect. In today’s play you only had but one line and you delivered it masterfully. I can’t imagine how the outcome would’ve looked like if you had more than one line.”

“Stop that.”

“It is true though!” Oikawa throws his hands up. “How can you not see that? Don’t be so modest…”

“I’m not being modest.” Akaashi defends himself, sitting down at the kitchen’s bar.

“No?”

“No.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m just being real.” Akaashi responses. “I’m not as good as I would like to be. I’m ok, better than other, ok, but generally speaking I still have a long way to go to be on the level I’d love to be.”

“Says the one who did a marvelous job just today.”

Akaashi sighs. “You sound like Bokuto.”

“I don’t care if I so- wait, who’s Bokuto.”

“Bokuto is… my bodyguard.” Akaashi explains, nipping at his tea and not obviously not caring what kind of reaction his answers draws from Oikawa.

“He is what? Bodyguard?” Oikawa yells surprised. “How come?”

“He is a bodyguard on training.” Akaashi explains further. “And as a bodyguard in training it is hard if there’s no one who’s willing to have him as, well, as a bodyguard. He needs that because it is necessary for his personal learning process.”

“And how…?” Oikawa gestures vaguely.

“They asked me but I declined -.”

“Of course you would.” Oikawa rolls his eyes.

“- but as I heard that he is desperately trying to find someone himself, I accepted. And ever since then he is my bodyguard.”

Oikawa remains quiet to let the words sink in.

“You’re quiet.” Akaashi states, taking out his cell phone.

“Well, I’ve never thought, even dreamed of having a bodyguard.” Oikawa explains. “And now, hearing your story, makes me realize how many actors actually do have a bodyguard. A detail I never really actively paid attention to.”

“I see… well, sooner or later they might come and ask you ask well.” Akaashi says. “Because they normally only ask people - like me - who’ve here for a while and…”

“…proved to be talented enough to stay.” Oikawa finishes the sentences. “Come now, Kei-chan. You can state that you’ve got talent.”

“I –“ But the rest of Akaashi answers goes unheard as someone knocks forcefully three times at the front door, a loud “Hello” wafts from beneath. “Speaking of the devil.” Akaashi comments and raises his voice lightly. “Just come in.”

“Hello!”

As the guest named Bokuto enters upon the room, Oikawa recognizes instantly the man’s fairly tall build. He has stunning pieces of grey in his hair with an odd mixture of black. It stands up like a tree which also come to strike Oikawa as slightly odd.

Moving down upon his face he has piercing yellow eyes which stare somewhat down upon Oikawa with a fierce intensity. They narrow to look onto the brown’s which come to mimic a predatory bird.

As Oikawa is coming to introduce himself the other male releases his tremendous voice which bellow from his loud gaping mouth "hey hey hey!" he comes out to say with a shocking shout. Oikawa is slightly taken aback by this which makes him touch the table behind him. Bokuto’s head comes to tilt by brown’s action and a small pout appears on his face. His lean arms come drooping down to the side of his muscular form. He is quick to change his attitude which shows off to Oikawa his softer side and that maybe he is not as erratic as Oikawa believed he was.

Swiftly, Oikawa regains his composure and speaks up: “So, you are Bokuto.”

“The one and only.” The other booms. He clearly is a man with a _strong_ voice. “And I’m Akaashi’s guardian.”

“You are not my guardian.” Akaashi scowls. “Bodyguard is fine.”

“But Akaaaashiii… A Bodyguard is just like a guardian.” Bokuto details, turning toward the obviously suffering man. “Cool. Talented. Handsome. Brave. The list is endless.”

“Ah… and what of those attitudes would match you?” Akaashi deadpans.

“All of them.” Bokuto hoots happily, fist on his mighty chest.

“That much I expected.”

Oikawa chuckles. “It’s nice to have such a _guardian.”_

“This man understands me.” A short victorious yell comes past Bokuto’s lips.

Akaashi shrugs and turns. “Whatever. Just keep your voice a little down, Bokuto. I received complaints that you could be heard in most of the apartments.”

“Wow.” Bokuto exhales. “That’s –

“I know.” Akaashi sighs.

“ – a reeeeeal achievement!”

Akaashi rolls his eyes drastically. “No. It’s no achievement, not even a surprise since you own such a voice.”

“Some consider that as a gift…?” Oikawa chips in cheeky.

“Hey hey hey! Do you hear that Akaashi??”

Akaashi sends Oikawa an annoyed glare. “Don’t encourage him any further or else you’ll have to deal with the complaints next time.”

…he seems… excited.” Oikawa ponders, scrutinizing Bokuto.

“Hysteric.” Akaashi counters.

“Enthusiastic.”

“Psychopathic”

“Manic will do it.” Oikawa finishes with a single nod.

“Jesus.” Bokuto heaves a heavily sigh. “That’s a whole bunch of vocabulary I didn’t even know it existed.”

“You better write it down.” Oikawa suggests.

“And then what?” Akaashi snorts. “Have him repeating and memorizing each word? He’s never been good at using such words anyway.”

“Akkaaashi, you promised me not to tell anyone.” Bokuto exclaims shocked, but his voice is drowned in Oikawa’s booming waterfall of words. “Wonderful idea. Sounds like an idea I could’ve come up with. Bo-chan, I suggest you do what he told you to do.”

“I better get going.” Bokuto sheepishly backs up.

“You go nowhere.” Akaashi is quick enough to grab Bokuto’s arm. “Since you’re here, you can actually go and make sure my new closet is made.”

“’s not done?” Bokuto wonders, blinking.

“No.”

“But… I thought I told them to take care of it.” The owlish male thinks aloud, tapping his chin.

“Who exactly did you tell?” Akaashi investigates, though he seems to know the answer already.

“The reception desk.”

Akaashi’s shoulder drop while Oikawa turns away to hide another ripple of laughter. He hears Akaashi sighing. Heavily. Like an old steam engine. Perhaps trailing dozens of wagons. “Why would you ask the reception to take care of this?”

“Hello Einstein.” Bokuto folds his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t it say: _we help you whenever help is needed.”_

“Technically he is right.” Oikawa remarks.

Akaashi shakes his head in disbelief instead, perhaps sending a silent prayer to muster enough strength to endure this. “No. We have a department for this. It sits right on the same level as your department sits.”

“It does?” It clearly astonishes Oikawa that Bokuto who must have been in this building for a while now still does NOT know where things and help could be found.

“Ok... relax.” Akaashi says, rubbing away a pounding headache which Bokuto might have caused over the course of their meeting. “You and me go now and pay them a visit.”

Bokuto shrugs. “Sounds good to me. I’m off anyhow.”

Oikawa giggles. “Well, then have fun, you two.”

“Thanks buddy.” The owlish fellow shouts. “See ya around.”

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_The next day, I remember thinking to what unearthly hours I had woken. The day wasn’t even really dawning and I laid in my sheets, fully awake and counting sheep’s to make myself falling asleep again. It didn’t work. All I kept thinking was the meeting in Duncan’s office. What would it bring? What would he say?_

 

_Good morning……….. zzz….  
_ _{April 4 th, 20..; 05:01 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: Someone’s awake… already…  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:04 a.m.}_

_Makki: Concerning.  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:05 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: I agree… either he went out drinking and just came home…  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:07 a.m.}_

_Makki: … or he just finished “something” and someone had to leave before he could be spotted… ;)  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:09 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: Sounds not convincing enough to me.  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:10 a.m.}_

_Makki: Of course… you’d obviously know what he’s doing…  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:10 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: You’d been living together… for how long again?  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:11 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: Even if we hadn’t shared an apartment, I can tell that Oikawa doesn’t text to such times when it’s not important. So what’s the matter there?_  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:14 a.m.}  
  


_Thank you Iwa-chan – sending you biiiiiiiiiiiiig cuddle xoxo  
_ _{April 4 th, 20..; 05:15 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: Leave me in peace --  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:17 a.m.}_

_Makki: So what’s the matter, Oik-Oik?  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:18 a.m.}_

_I’m super nervous… I told you guys about the meeting with Duncan, right? And it’s going to be in a few hours. But I just can’t sleep._  
_{April 4_ th, 20..; 05:22 a.m.}  
  


_Mattsun:_ _“Why?”  
_{April 4 th, 20..; 05:23 a.m.}__

_I…  
_ _{April 4 th, 20..; 05:26 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: Oi, don’t give me now this “Perhaps I’m not good enough”- shit. We all know it’s not true. If you keep thinking this, I’ll fly over and punch your shitty face.  
_{April 4 th, 20..; 05:29 a.m.}__

_Makki: Save me a seat in the airplane. *.*’  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:31 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: One more… ^-^  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:32 a.m.}_

_Mean. You’re all so mean to me!  
_ _{April 4 th, 20..; 05:34 a.m.}_

_Makki: You do like that word. But Iwaizumi’s right. Don’t think like that.  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:36 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: We know how long you’ve been waiting for this.  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:37 a.m.}_

_Awwwww!! Guys!! Thank you!!!! What would I do without?  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:39 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: Sleeping…?  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:40 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: Good point. Oikawa, back to sleep. You need rest.  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:41 a.m.}_

_Ok, mum ;) ;)  
_ _{April 4 th, 20..; 05:41 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: One more word and I’ll really fly over…  
{April 4 th, 20..; 05:42 a.m.}_

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

_I eventually got up at around 8 a.m. – pretty good time. So I went to have shower, had breakfast with Akaashi who apparently isn’t a morning person (his eye bags are far worse than Iwa-chan’s. He could apply for a job as ghost in a haunting house. He sure would scare the shit out of me)._

_Soon after, the two of us were approaching Duncan’s office, in front of which Kindaichi had already been waiting…_  
  


“Good morning.” Kindaichi waves in obvious excitement. Very obvious excitement. His voice is uneven, almost unmelodious, just like back in the 1920’s when Jazz was prominently being played nearly everywhere, but people still believed the band did not know what the other member were playing.

To put it simple, Kindaichi is just very excited. Like a Jazz-band in the 1920’s.

“Morning.” Akaashi drones, yawning.

In contrast, Oikawa voices his “Good Morning, Kin-chan” rather cheerful.

“I’m so very excited.” Kindaichi exhales. “I… I- I couldn’t sleep a wink.”

“Obviously.” Akaashi murmurs, leaning against the wall.

“Aw, don’t be nervous.” Oikawa grips Kindaichi’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Remember, he invited you to his office because he recognized your talent.”

“Talent of what? Being a stuttering mess?” Comes another unmelodious voice from behind. This time, however, it is a different kind of “unmelodious” that could hardly be put into words. It is not a voice that one wants to listen to for too long. Mozart’s nightmare perhaps, if Oikawa were to name it without having even seen the person who wields his voice like a weapon.

He turns and when his eyes land on the only man approaching them, he feels strangely reminded of how much he despises snakes. Because snakes are the animal this young man perhaps resembled best. He has a small build, thin face, short eyebrows, and slanted eyes. His thick, dark hair with bangs are neatly swept to his left side.

Upon approaching, Oikawa spots the height difference – a fact he secretly is thankful for as height has always been a good way to shut unwelcomed people down.

“And with whom do we have the pleasure with?” Voice polite, the corners of Oikawa’s lips tug into a smile. Perhaps a little to forced, but he doesn’t care so much.

“Wisely chosen words.” The man snickers, sticking his tongue out. Yes, he absolutely resembles a snake.

Oikawa feels his teeth grit behind his smirk. He regains his form from there, chin tipping up in challenge. “I just addressed you politely as I don’t know whether you’re older than me or perhaps a superior.”

“I see.” The man says, arms crossing over his chest. His dismissive gaze shifts from Oikawa to Akaashi, then to Kindaichi before his eyes fall back on Oikawa. “Name’s Daishou Suguru.”

“Nice to meeting you.” Kindaichi says, bowing lightly. Oikawa and Akaashi make no attempt in moving their heads even one inch.

Daishou sighs. “Can’t say the same but it seems we’re invited to the same meeting - or why else would you lot block my way to Duncan’s office?”

“So he invited you as well?” Oikawa blurts out.

“Surprised?”

“A bit.” Oikawa shrugs. “But then, I’ve never seen you acting before… so Duncan must have had his reason to pick you over the others.”

“I gave him the reason.” Daishou details. “I would’ve questioned his mind if he had chosen this bunch of dabblers over me.”

“Someone’s quite self-opinionated, no?” Akaashi deadpans at Oikawa side.

Daishou shoots him a dark glare, but Akaashi remains as relaxed as ever. It takes at least an entire soccer team of Daishou’s to baffle Akaashi, Oikawa reckons. But then there’s Bokuto….

“Well, in this business you’ve got to be sure of yourself.” Daishou says, eyes quickly flashing back to Kindaichi. “Because those who are not talented enough will not make a fair living out of it.”

“It’s not only talent that matters, you know.” Oikawa reveals darkly.

Upon meeting Oikawa’s firm gaze, a silence falls between the two of them. A silence that feels so heavy, so crushing, that it is only a matter of time that one of them would shatter if it lasted too long.

“What is your name?” Daishou asks, breaking the silence.

“Oikawa Tooru.”

“Oikawa…” Daishou repeats. “I better keep that in mind.”

“You better do.” Oikawa confirms.

Daishou’s eyebrow raise, but before he can utter any other words, Duncan arrives: “Good Morning everyone. Glad you found the way safely and… “ He pauses. “… well, you’re here, and that’s what matters, right.”

“Good morning, Duncan.” Daishou bows, stepping aside to let him through. Oikawa rolls his eyes, as he catches Akaashi’s gaze. If he had to describe it, allowed to only use one word, Oikawa would have surely used “disgust”.

“Hi Dai, great job yesterday.” Duncan says, unlocking the door. “Come in, come in.”

Of course it has to be Daishou who enters first. Kindaichi follows with Akaashi being the last.

“Hey, _Kashi_ , kindly close the door, would ya?” Duncan hoots, landing in his seat behind a large desk.

“ _Kashi_?” Oikawa whispers, when Akaashi takes the last free chair beside him after closing the door.

“One word to Bokuto and you’re dead.” Akaashi does not even turn his head to voice his threat.

“Understood.” Oikawa gulps. _Note: do not call him Kashi!_

“So.” A wide grin spreads across Duncan’s face. „So! Congratulations first on winning the election.”

“Election?” Kindaichi frowns.

“Well, kind of…” Duncan’s gaze drifts of momentarily. “Anyway! You guys did splendid yesterday – but that doesn’t mean you’re now getting prepared to be stars… well, no, actually you are… but not in a sense that you ARE stars already… Shit, no, that’s not true.”

“Duncan…” Akaashi rolls his eyes. “Get your things sorted out first. Then talk.”

“Yes, Kashi!”

Oikawa shifts in his seat to hide the ripples of laughter that threaten his lips.

“So… What I’m saying is basically; you did well – but you’ve not yet reached the end of the ladder.”

“Ah, that makes sense now.” Kindaichi nods.

“It does, right?” Duncan beams. “Ladders are so handy in usage. Anyway. Let’s get down to business now.”

“Thank you.” Daishou snorts.

“No need to be so grateful, I’m just doing my job.” If he could, Duncan would have surely patted his own shoulder, that much Oikawa is certain. “Anyway. You now made it into my office… and now the work begins. We’ve elected eight aspiring actors and actresses and put them into two groups, consisting of four people each. You’re group… hm… one. One sounds good, as I will meet the others later on. So. In JPA it’s common that we do a “test week.” In this week, you – as a group – attend different sorts of programs, such as dancing, singing, acting and so forth. The reason? Simple. We want to see how skilled each of you is and, especially, in which section that is. Like… look at Kashi for minute. Doesn’t he look like someone who could play every character in a comedy?”

Silence.

“Yeah, right…” Akaashi deadpans, sending Duncan a subtle “you better stop messing around with me” glare.

Oikawa shifts again in his seat to hide his silent laughter.

“What use does this program have, may I ask?” Daishou voices his question as soft as butterfly would land on flowers in spring. Oikawa shits again, now shivering in utter disgust.

“Like I said, we wish to see where your strength is. Because then, and only then, we can make sure you get the right job first. And that could be anything; commercials, stage play, supporting roles in a film… anything. There’s no limit to it. But we can’t just call the guys out there and say, “hi dude, how ‘bout a drink.”

Duncan takes his phone, improvising a fake phone call with a friend – perhaps fake as well, Oikawa assumes. _“Ok, dude, how ‘bout 8-ish, down in the old alley?”_

_“Right, bring it up.”_

_“Dude, I got some actors, ya know.”_

_“Dude, we’re full of actors.”_

_“Yeah, I know, but you know, I need to get them out… or else my ass is out, too.”_

_“Bro, I’d save your ass, man.”_

_“Bro…”_

“Duncan….” Akaashi’s head falls into his hands.

“Ou, right. So, dude, we have an actor who’s proven to be really good at playing all sorts of comedy rolls.” Duncan blinks. “Like, he’s the next… … you know that guy from… you know, _that_ film… well, you get the point, he’s just god damn good. You better hire him.”

Duncan puts down the phone. “Oscar-worthy, I know.” He waves his hand forth and back, before continuing. “What I’m trying to say is… this week is for you. Only for you. It’s your time and you gotta go and prove everybody that you can do this shit, man.”

“Why do you suddenly switch to a south coast accent?” Akaashi points out petty.

“I think it matches the moment, brah.”

“You’re a horrible actor.” Akaashi crosses his arms. “Please move on now with your explanations.”

Duncan snorts. “Alright, Kashi.” He turns, obviously searching for some papers. “Here.” He says curtly, handing out each a few papers.

The title reads:

_JPA – Training program/Test week_

“Are there any questions?” Duncan says grumpy, scrutinizing his nails like he had never seen them before.

“Why are there two groups?” Kindaichi asks, looking up from his papers.

“Excellent question.” Duncan leans forward. “Let’s put it like that – only one group can win.”

Oikawa tilts his head to the side. “Is this some kind of competition?”

“No.” Duncan taps his chin. “Well… maybe a little? But since you don’t know the other group, you’ve got nothing to fear.”

“What if we … lose?” Anybody could tell, that Daishou put some extra emphasis on the last word.

“You’ll get fired?”

“What?” The four of them exhale in unison.

Duncan breaks out into a barking laughter. “I love that face everybody makes when I tell them the news… No, you won’t get fired.”

“Really?” Kindaichi presses on.

“Can we trust you?” Oikawa investigates further.

“Of course you can trust me.” Duncan waves a dismissive hand. “Who do you think I am? I’m a downright nice man.”

“Depends.” Akaashi moans.

“Kashi?”

“Nothing.” Akaashi shakes his head. “Just move on.”

“Right… so, one group gets immediately offered some roles… or whatever it is, while the other group has to wait for the next turn. It’s a tight business, as you all may have noticed, and we can’t send them all out at once… this market would explode! KABAM!” Overly excited, Duncan jumps right off his seat, earning another dark glare from Akaashi.

“You’re really not fun, Kashi… I should’ve invited you later.” Duncan grumbles. “You’re always up for some fun… during afternoon only I guess.”

“Is he?” Oikawa looks in pure awe at his neighbor. The man in question only shakes his head.

Two knocks at the door sound through the room, silencing them, when two men and two women enter the office. Among them, Tsukishima.

“Oh, Tsukki.” Oikawa yells happily. “Nice to see you again. Where’ve you been?”

“Place where you weren’t.” Tuskki retorts.

“Mean.”

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

_And from there on, we had another hour of talking… I can’t remember everything actually as it was A LOT. About the test week primarily, and Duncan wanted that our managers were informed as well._

_After that, we had some nice lunch… it would’ve been much nicer though if Daishou hadn’t been invited. I don’t like him. I think I never will. I can’t understand why he’s in my group. I can work well with Akaashi and Kindaichi… but I doubt I can work well with this guy._

_Later, I had to sit through another meeting with Daishou and some guy called Andy… he seems to be the supervisor of this program. A grumpy man. Quite the opposite to Duncan. He has his this tick with his eye… I can’t really describe it … he looks pretty much everywhere, but avoids to meet your gaze. I think he doesn’t like people so much._  
  


“I’m so done with meetings for today.” Oikawa leans back in his chair after Andy has dismissed them. “No more meeting…”

Kindaichi at his side remains quite.

“What’s wrong?” Oikawa turns to face him. “You’ve been sitting quietly for quite some time now.”

“Well…” Kindaichi shifts nervously in his seat. “This program makes me rather nervous…”

“Why?”

“Because… hm… I think I have to change quite a lot if I want to keep up with you guys.” Kindaichi answers slowly, trying not to meeting Oikawa’s gaze.

“Change…?” Oikawa repeats. “Change … what?”

“My style of acting, I think.”

“I’m afraid I must agree.” Daishou interferes, a hand resting on Kindaichi’s shoulder as if it is meant to encourage him.

“You’ve not seen him acting yet.” Oikawa growls, sending him a dark glare.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” Daishou admits. “But I don’t wish to see it either way. You see, we have to change things in order to make them better suited to a wider group of people. And I think this is something young Kindaichi just now realized.”

“How can you-“

A hand stops Oikawa from – perhaps – going wild and strangling the man. Tsukishima’s hand. “We do not wish any war declarations or anything that might bring us into trouble, now don’t we?”

“No.” Oikawa murmurs.

“Learn to control your tongue, Suguru.” Says the man behind Daishou who had introduced himself as Naoyasu Kuguri earlier this day. A lethargic individual as it seems. “It annoys me… somehow.”

Daishou takes off his hand from Kindaichi’s shoulder. “Whatever.” Before he leaves the room he cannot help but to send both Oikawa and Tsukishima a dismissive look.

“I think this Daishou guy hates us.” Oikawa whispers after getting up. “He looks so…”

“…lonely?” Tuskishima says curtly.

“Do you think he is?”

“Perhaps.” Tuskishima shrugs.

“But why should he hate the two of us?” Oikawa ponders, following Kindaichi out of them room.

“Don’t know.”

“Maybe because he has no friends… and sees, on what good terms we are.” Oikawa theorizes, arms folding over his chest.

“We’re not friends either.” Tuskishima corrects pointedly.

As if struck by a lightning, Oikawa freezes in place. “We’re not?”

“No.” Tuskishima continues his walk, flipping through his agenda.

“What do you call it then?” Oikawa inquires, keeping up with the blonde’s speed.

“Professional relationship.”

“I thought you were gonna say friends with benefits.” Oikawa blinks.

This time it is Tuskishima’s turn to freeze in place, a light shade of red spreading over his features. “With you, no.”

“Hear, hear.” Oikawa laughs. “So there is a naughty side to you… interesting.”

“Do not make up stories.” Tsukishima lectures. “That was not what I meant.”

“I’m not making up any stories.” Oikawa denies.

“You do.”

“Don’t”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Never.” Oikawa shakes his head.

“You were just trying to.” Tsukishima says, sighing. “They told me I’ll get a good partner to work with… but instead I ended up with… with…”

“A talented, young and very handsome man?” Oikawa suggests.

“… you. Simply you.” Tsukishima spits the words as if they were a curse.

“Mean.” The brown pouts. “Not even a single good word.”

“You see, I usually don’t make up stories either.” The other articulates.

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

_The next day, our program started… and it proved to be such a boring affair, that I wished I could go and run a marathon instead. Andy kept talking and talking … and talking… and I wondered what he actually was talking about. Sometimes he talked about “camera’s”, then again “Make-up”, and so forth… I mean… We know this stuff already._

_JPA doesn’t just accept you. It doesn’t just give then free lessons on how cameras work or how to put on a good make-up. They want you to know this by the time you send them the application form._

_And the worst thing about being bored is, that your mind is too lazy to actually do something and help you out from this misery. Like, I couldn’t even imagine anymore how it was to have sex with Kuroo. It was a blur, a mess, and plain black. I couldn’t see his messy hair… nothing._

_After a while, Daishou pointed out that Andy was not very clear in his explanations and that he feared we wouldn’t get anywhere if he continued like this. I had to agree, though I didn’t say a word._

_Wednesday rolled by and – gladly – was different…_

“Oh well…” Oikawa mumbles to himself, flipping to the last page of his weekly program before tossing it on the table. “Soon, it’ll be over and I’m having my first day on set.”

“Sure you will.” Kindaichi nods, having a look at his own program. “But today sounds interesting.”

“Yeah?”

“Hm. _Talent.”_

“Talent?” Oikawa repeats, gaze floating skywards to the ceiling.

“I suppose it means we have to show what we’re particularly good at.” Kindaichi

Oikawa hums in appreciation. “That’s good… I’m interested in what Akaashi’s good at.”

“There must be a lot.” Kindaichi tilts his head forth and back.

“What are you good at?” Oikawa asks.

“Hm. I don’t know…”

“You know,” Oikawa leans forward. “You do remind of someone I met once…” The mere memory of Kunimi stings when his face flashes up, ghostly, never to be seen again.

_  
I wish I had your talent, too…_

The memory of Kunimi laying on the floor, with blood on his wrists creeps up his mind. He hears his voice growing faint; he was pleading for an answer. But no answer would come. Never again.

Kunimi’s voice was gone, drowned in the deepest despair of life. His voice was gone. The rose wilted.

And for a moment that appear like an hours, Oikawa feels as if the room spins, colours fading and devouring each sound. He feels as if he was falling, deeper and deeper, while everything grows faint...

  
“Tooru?” The voice sounds faint like someone speaks from afar. “Tooru?”

Oikawa lifts his head, meeting Kindaichi’s worried ones. ”Yes?”

“Are you alright?” The other presses. “You looked so… absent for moment.”

“Yes, yes.” Oikawa nods, fingers on his temples and soothing the throbbing spot. “I was just… never mind.”

Before Kindaichi manages to say something, he sits up, glance peering past Oikawa. “Someone’s approaching you, you don’t like.”

“Andy?” Oikawa says dryly.

“No.”

“Let me try again.” Oikawa pauses for a moment. “That wasn’t quite the best choice. _Daishou.”_

“Yes.” Kindaichi’s voice has an amused tone to it.

“No.” The brown falls back into his chair.

“Yes?”

“No, I mean “no” in the sense of refusing to accept the thought of having him around me.” Oikawa informs deadpan.

“Are you talking about me?” Daishou drawls as unmelodious as ever.

“Why would I?” Oikawa refuses to meet his gaze, eyes trained upon his papers.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Perhaps there’s little to be said?” Oikawa ponders, tapping his chin.

“Or perhaps there’s plenty to be said and you’re having a hard time to choose between the stories.” Daishou snarls lightly “To help you out: they’re all connected one way or other.”

“Who would’ve thought?” Oikawa manages to school his features before he turns to face his … not enemy per se, but a person who is not really fond of, to put it nicely.

“I wonder what your talents may be…?” Daishou crosses his arms, pretending to look thoughtful. He quickly glances at Kindaichi. “And you… well… try not to be in our way today, ok?”

“Have you forgotten to slough your skin this morning?” come the retort from behind. Akaashi, having his papers in one, a cup of tea in the other hand, steps at his side. “Or why else do I have the feelings you’ve aged overnight?”

Daishou’s eyebrows raise to the remark. “Good morning, Akaashi.”

“Good morning, Daishou.”

“Why do I feel the room has gotten so much colder?” Oikawa whispers, shivering.

“Good morning guys.” Norah Lord yells from across the room. “Hurry up, I wish to get started.”

“Morning Norah.”

“Alright, guys.” Norah begins, once the four of them had gathered around her. “Today is all about talent. But let me first tell you, that you are ALL talented – if you weren’t, JPA wouldn’t have accepted you. So keep that in mind.” She flips her reddish-brown hair gracefully back, the corner of her lips tugging up in a swift smile. “We’re gathered a lot of information about each of you… what you were doing, where you’d been studying, whether you have certain acting experiences or not… the regular stuff, as you see. However, we haven’t much collected personal stuff… and personal stuff includes _talents or interests aside from acting._ Though reading a book as an interest, too, it’s not an interested that can be shown to someone else… unlike beatboxing, painting, dancing, and so on. You got the point, don’t you?”

The four of them nod in unison.

“Right. So, let me quickly ask each of one question, ok?”

Another nod follows.

“Let me start with… Akaashi.” She turns towards Akaashi. “So… what are you good at you wish to share with us? Is there something you could somehow connect with acting? Tell me…”

“I used to skate a lot in my early teens.” Akaashi answers.

“Oh, did you? Impressive.” Norah says. “That explains your graceful stature. Good good… Did you attend any competitions..?”

“I did.”

“Won anything?”

“I did.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Because I had other things in mind I wanted to do.” Akaashi says without hesitation.

“And that is?”

“Acting.”

“Right, thank you.” Norah offers him a warm smile before she turns to Kindaichi. “Your turn… same question: what are you good at?”

“Beatboxing.” Kindaichi responds simply.

“Is that so? How come?” Norah investigates further.

Kindaichi begins to play with his fingers nervously. “I guess it was because of a show I used to watch when I was young… there was this guy who often showed how skilled he was at beatboxing. I liked it and so I started to pick it up.”

“You picked it up from only watching this series?

“Yes.”

“Impressive. Very impressive indeed.” Norah concludes and turns again, meeting Oikawa’s brown eyes. “Let me take guess, will you?”

“Ok.” Oikawa shrugs.

Norah scrutinizes him swiftly, before she declares. “ _Dancer_.”

Oikawa’s mouth falls agape. “Yes… but… how..?”

“The way you walk.” Norah gestures towards Oikawa legs. “We’ve had many dancers… and I don’t know why, but all the skilled dancer walk so smoothly… I sometimes think they even barely touch the floor they walk on.”

“I’m….”

“Speechless?” Norah finishes. Oikawa nods. “Well, I’ve been in this business for a while now and I can tell quite a lot about someone’s presence and personality by only having a short glimpse at them.”

“That’s a great talent.” Kindaichi chimed in.

“Perhaps.” Norah waves it off.

“What else can you tell about me?” Oikawa wonders.

“Hardworking.” Norah simply states, before shifting her glance onto the last remaining figure of their group: Daishou. “Same question.”

“Piano.” Daishou says. “I’ve been playing piano my entire life.”

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_Ironically, we only answered Norah’s question and went then to pursue a subject of a whole different nature – improvisation. I wonder why we had to answer these questions though…_

_Thursday was all about memorizing lines…, well, actually doing whatever they asked you to do. I don’t quite this test week, but then again, it’s only one more day to go. And we had even to kiss… god, that was a laugh. For women came to be our “kissing partner” – though I would’ve preferred Akaashi – and we had to act through another made up scene. Kindaichi felt most unwell while Daishou couldn’t stop bragging… but I felt he wasn’t a good kisser… He should take some lessons from Kuroo._

_On Friday, before Duncan came, we sat together, as we talked about love and such… I don’t even know why we came to speak about such a topic… gladly, Daishou wasn’t around…_  
  


“So, you’ve never had a girlfriend?” Akaashi asks carefully.

Kindaichi shakes his head.

“There’s no need to feel embarrassed about it.” Oikawa speaks softly, hand reaching out to pat Kindaichi’s shoulder. “Each of us has his own speed.”

“It’s not that…”

“Even if you hadn’t had your first kiss, that’s alright.” Akaashi adds briefly. “Don’t put too much thought into-“

“IT’S NOT THAT.” Kindaichi cuts him off, voice fuelled with anger and… disappointment?

Silence falls between the three of them in which Oikawa and Akaashi exchange short glances.

“Yūtarō…” Oikawa begins, voice soft, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “Akaashi’s right. It’ll happen when the time is right. The ideal person will pass your way and… well, you will end up together. You’re such a nice guy, really.”

“No, it’s not… that… “ Kindaichi growls, forcing his tears back that had begun to fill his eyes.

“What is it then?”

“It’s… I… “ Kindaichi stutters, eyes landing upon his hand. “I don’t think… I don’t think I have an ideal type… or anything like it.”

“You don’t.” Oikawa’s expression changes and the smile drops from his face. “You don’t?”

Kindaichi only shakes his head again, a muffled sob escaping his throat.

“But… maybe you think you have no one until you meet-“

“NO!” Kindaichi cries out. “No. I don’t. I never had. I never will. I know myself well enough. It never happened to me. Everybody loves, kisses, has sex, and so forth… I- I just can’t. I…”

Oikawa and Akaashi remain silent, while Kindaichi buries his face in his hands, hiding the tears that had begun to roll down his face.

“I don’t like anybody. Not like that.” He murmurs. “I’m a monstrosity.”

“Yūtarō.” Oikawa says, but the addressed man doesn’t react.

“Yūtarō Kindaichi, look me in the eyes.” Oikawa repeats, a subtle commanding tone filling his voice.

Kindaichi lifts his head, eyes meeting Oikawa’s, who looks at him gently. “You’re NOT a monstrosity. Not today, not tomorrow, not in a million years. If I had only known yesterday I would’ve asked Norah to have you excused from this kissing stuff. I saw that you felt most unwell, but couldn’t come to reason why. I’m sorry for that. If I had known, I would’ve stepped in.”

“Me too.” Akaashi reveals, a smile caressing his graceful features. “Just because you don’t like someone romantically doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, a monstrosity or not human after all. Perhaps there might even be term for that – you know how people like to name everything, right? You could grace yourself with such a title, if it helps… but you don’t have to. Just know, that you are who you are. You were born this way, right?”

Kindaichi nods.

“I agree.” Oikawa says. “Whatever other people might say about you – let them talk. Whatever they might think – let them think. Just be you. I mean… look at me? Tough it’s 20… something… people are still homophobic. They still treat those people like scum. _It’s against god and the church…_ Blah blah blah… half of the dolphins are gay, but no one cares.”

“Really?” Akaashi frowns.

“Yes, it’s true.” Oikawa answers, before continuing with a softer tone. “Whatever you are, whoever you are,… don’t let anybody tell you, you’re not “right” or “correct”. Just be you. Because we like you. Whether you do have a romantic relationship or not. Whether you do kiss someone or not. Whether you do have sex or not.”

“Alright…” Kindaichi sniffs. “I go quickly to the washroom… we have another ten minutes before Duncan arrives.”

Head low, he stands and leaves the room, appearing somehow like a boat set adrift on the vast ocean, lonely and being thrown around by nature’s elemental force.

A sighs comes past Oikawa’s lips when the door snaps shut. “I never thought he could be… well, what is he?”

“I don’t know if there is a term for that… but it might be best for him not to know.” Akaashi ponders.

“Agreed.”

When the door opens, Oikawa shifts in his seat, only to interlock eyes with Daishou. Upon arriving, he casts the two of them a characterless smile.

“You look hideous.” Oikawa feels the need to point out that very important fact.

“Your hair looks hideous.” Daishou counters dryly.

Oikawa is only momentarily startled before his features draw back to neutral. His brain is too occupied with other stuff that he would not let anyone ruin his mood.

The door opens again, and Duncan emerges, a wide smile plastering his face. “Hellllooo everybody.”

“Not quite.” Daishou says, glancing between Oikawa and Akaashi. “Isn’t there someone missing? Or has he taken leave?”

“Why should he?” Oikawa growls.

“Do you really wish me to declaim all the reasons?”

“Reason for what?” Duncan wonders interested.

“Never mind.” Daishou says.

“Anyway!” Duncan hoots. “While we’re waiting for the last member to arrive…. How was your week?”

“Well… how to I put it…” Oikawa begins, only to have Akaashi finishing his sentence. “It was boring.”

Surprisingly, Duncan’s grin grows a few inches. “As I thought. Nobody likes it… but for us, it’s very helpful.”

A snapping sounds announces Kindaichi’s arrival. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Not to mention.” Duncan waves a hand forth and back. “Anyway, since you’re here… and I don’t have so much time to waste… you know, Friday is busy… I will straight come to the point!” He takes in a deep breath: “Congratulations!! You’ve been all elected to play a role in the upcoming film “Downtown”.”

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

Oikawa lays in bed. Midnight has not passed yet.

It had taken him a while to fully let the word sink in: _You’ve been all elected to play a role in the upcoming film “Downtown”._

Downtown.

An upcoming film.

A supporting role.

His first role.

Downtown.

Oikawa sits up.

Falls back again.

And sits up again.

Downtwon.

“I made it.” Oikawa whispers. He jumps off his bed. “I made it.”

He takes his cell phone – the world has to know; Facebook, Instagram, Twitter… everyone has to know. Everyone.

 

_GUYS!!!! I MADE IT!!!!!!!!!!!! I MADE IT!!!!!  
_ _{April 8 th, 20..; 23:49 p.m.}_

 

He drops his cell phone onto his bed. Blood rushes through his nervous system. Excitement. Thrill. Joy. Numerous feelings keep flooding though his veins. Unstoppable. Repeatedly inflaming a new wave of other feelings.

He walks in circles until he feels like throwing up. He sits down again, when his eyes land on the card roll. Kuroo’s card roll.

“Tetsu-chan.” He whispers. He grabs the cell phone again, opening the latest chat with his mess-haired boyfriend.

 

_I made it, Tetsu-chan… I MADE IT! I’m gonna be in a film! Wish, you could be here though…  
_ _{April 8 th, 20..; 23:52 p.m.}_

 

Locking the cell phone, he pushes himself from the bed and walks over to get the card roll from his desk. His feelings change. His heart begins to hammer in his chest. His hands are sweaty.

“Come now, Tooru…” He murmers.

Oikawa takes off the cover, as a rolled paper falls to the ground. With a small curse under his breath, he bends down to look at the paper.

Upon seeing, his eyes widen in a mingled sensation of shock and confusion. Then, he hurries back to his bed, where the cell phone lay, and grabs it perhaps a little too violent.

 

_MEAN! I hate you, Kuroo Tetsurou!  
_ _{April 8 th, 20..; 23:55 p.m.}_

 

Perhaps within less than a minute, his phones vibrates.

 

 _Oho ho ho. The rising star opened the card roll? >winking cat<_  
_Hope you like it ;) I’m proud of you.  
__{April 8_ th, 20..; 23:56 p.m.}

 

“I love it.” Oikawa whispers, feeling his eyes water. “I really do.”

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hollywood Tonight Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcEEhVenRiQ&list=PLT9iC9HPhr7JtTPjuSVaxDnimImSne6Y-


	20. Growth / Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they (presumably Oikawa, Akaashi, Daishou,…) are on the new rise of fame and surely Daishou knows that. But Oikawa has a hard time unraveling why he would say something like that – in front of all the supporting actors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first paragraph while listining to this beautiful piece - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8xorQAdCiQ  
> (Also part of the "Hollywood Tonight" Playlist - https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT9iC9HPhr7JtTPjuSVaxDnimImSne6Y-)
> 
> I'm surprised that I could actually update... hope, you like it. I tried to erase/correct as many mistakes as possible... but I believe there are still a number of mistakes left.
> 
> Critique is always welcomed.

Oikawa shifts in his slumber, eyelids flutter open and he blinks slowly. A gentle ray of sunlight casts its way into the room, tinting it in a deep ocean of mesmeric colours. It takes a few seconds to activate his brain, when his head falls to the side.

Kuroo is not there.

Oikawa frowns. Kuroo has to be there. He remembers falling asleep, cuddled up against his side, his head resting atop Kuroo’s outstretched arm.

“Is this a dream?” Oikawa mumbles, hands reaching out in search for his boyfriend.

“If it was, you’d lay somewhere else.” Kuroo’s low voice sounds softly through the room.

Oikawa’s head turns and he catches sight of the mess-haired, sitting in the corner of his room. He appears to be holding his sketchbook in one of his hands, while the other is occupied with letting the pencil glide upon the page. Yet it seems like the pencil orders the hand to follow.

“How long have you been awake?” Oikawa asks, the sunlight catching his eyelashes and casting a soft shadow over his eyes and under his lips.

“Not so long… I guess…”

“What are you doing there?”

Kuroo hand comes to pause for a split second, before continuing its silent pursuit. “Just sketching some stuff…”

“I see…” Kuroo’s soothing voice makes Oikawa shut his eyes tightly, his heart trembling inside his chest before he soon drifts off again…

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

In his room in Hollywood, Oikawa’s eyes take in every inch of the picture Kuroo had given to him. It shows a sleeping Oikawa, curled up in Kuroo’s bed in Tokyo, face relaxed and calm, while the golden sunlight of dawn bathes him.

Oikawa presses the picture against his chest, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. His eyes wander beyond the window glass and peer into the night.

Looking back, he recalls when Kuroo had drawn it. It was the last time Oikawa had stayed over at Kuroo’s apartment – just a little over two weeks ago. Yet it feels like years have already passed since Oikawa has left everything behind him, following his dream.

He lowers slowly onto the mattress, pressing Kuroo’s drawing flush against his chest. His heart aches in his ribcage, drumming a slow melody.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

“Akaaaashi!” Bokuto hoots, sitting on counter of their kitchen. “Today is you’re first day on set, right?” A week has passed since the announcement.

“Yes, Bokuto.”

“Are you excited?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You don’t like so excited to me?” Oikawa points out, flashing a smile at his roommate.

“Don’t you see that I have a hard time with controlling myself?” Akaashi huffs deadpan.

“Ah, don’t be nervous.” Bokuto pats his shoulder. “If you want me to, I can over to watch you play.”

“No.” Akaashi shakes his head vigorously. “Thank you for your kind offer, but you don’t have to waste your time-“

“Ah, Aggashi…” Bokuto cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “You’re not wasting my time. It would be pleasure to help you out.”

“See.” Oikawa laughs. “Have him stay with, _Ka…_ “ Oikawa coughs briefly. “I mean, Akaashi.”

Akaashi shoots him a dark glare. “On which side are you?”

“I’m on no one’s side.” Oikawa answers swiftly. “I’m like… the advisory vote.”

“Fair enough.” Bokuto shrugs.

Akaashi sighs before turning to face Bokuto again. “Ok, how about this… let me first _try_ to go there myself… and if I can’t compose myself – I call you, ok?”

Bokuto blinks once, twice,… even a third time before he releases his tremendous voice, bellowing from his loud gaping mouth: "Hey hey hey!”

“I take that as a yes.” Pushing his chair back, Akaashi leaves for the bathroom.

Once the snapping sound of said door sounds through the apartment, Oikawa’s chin comes to rest on top of this hands, a playful smirk playing its way onto his lips. “It’s so lovely with what level of affection you take care of your _protégé_.”

“Proto… what?” Bokuto frowns. “Akaashi isn’t some kind of prototype, you know.”

“I know.” Oikawa chuckles. “And the word is _protégé.”_

“Whatever the word means…” Bokuto huffs, crossing arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

Oikawa chuckles. “Something is in air… I can smell it.”

“Did you let one go?” Bokuto asks.

Oikawa makes a face. “No. I meant something else.”

Bokuto sniffs. “Can’t smell anything.”

“Oh god.” Oikawa’s drops onto the table, before her features draw back to neutral. “I was just wondering whether you like Akaashi or not.”

“’f course I like him.”

“You don’t get it, right?”

“No, _you_ don’t get it.” Bokuto retorts.

“Excuse you?”

The bathroom doors opens and Akaashi emerges from the room, slowly wandering of into his room. “You can go now, Tooru.” His voice sounds faint.

“That’s a relief.” Oikawa shoots up from his chair, briefly returns to his room to get the stuff he needs before finally closing the door of the bathroom. A long shower follows…

 

_My first day on set was… strange… Table reading and such had already been done and we were all ready to just get started… but being on an actual set required patience, patience and more patience – from everybody, inclusive the material. Nothing seemed to be done in under an hour… every action exceeded one hour…_

_Though supporting role, we were meant to be on set as often as we could mostly because:_

_A: the director wants us to get really into character. And we could best do this when we were on set, together with the lead._

_B: in doing so, we could learn A LOT!_

_And whilst waiting, I re-read the script multiple times: Downtown, set in mid-80’s somewhere around Seattle, is about a gang of… believe or not… moped dealers (is that even possible), who get into trouble as the daughter of a rich company boss moves in to live, of course, in Seattle. She’s bored of her life, but creatively talented. Her rich daddy wants her to marry this snobbish dude from another company, blah blah blah… of course everybody gets into trouble, but there is a happy end._

_Ridiculous._

_However! I like how creative and ambitioned everybody is, though it’s a low-budget production. Therefore, I – and the rest of my group – got the roles._

_When we looked at our characters portraits, we began to understand why Norah Lord asked us all the question a week ago:_ _talents or interests aside from acting._

_Daishou is the step-brother of this rich girl + a great piano player… I wonder if he’s really that good like he claims to be. Kindaichi is part of the moped dealer gang and their beatboxer – LOL. It’s not like every gang has this one dude who provides them with suitable background music… hilarious. In the end of the film though, Kindaichi and Daishou are supposed to play together… if that works well?_

_Akaashi and I are the rich girls friends… the good looking dude’s that the girl is still not interested in. Suuuure! Very convincing, Hollywood. But I like the following fact best: we’re skaters. Every “nice, snobbish” school needs its “bad boys”._

_Right?_

 

Oikawa yawns.

Watching the lead actor’s play proves to be a boring affair the longer it carries on. Oikawa wonders why Gordon Brown, one of the starring stars in a number of movies, had been assigned to this role. He could’ve had so many other roles instead… a spy, or a lover.

But the leader of gang just doesn’t suit him. A moped gang. In Seattle.

He is in the lead actress’ room – Charlene Barker. No one’s ever heard her name before but she seems to be fairly good. At least her acting looks believable and in-character.

Gordon just looks downright off. Jeans. Black leather jacket. An undercut haircut with a side part hairstyle in reminiscence of … perhaps Zack Morris in [NBC](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/NBC)'s “ _Saved by the Bell_ ”, played by none other than Mark-Paul Harry Gosselaar. Up until now, Oikawa has only seen one or two episodes but it never managed to pique his interest.

The hair is the only thing he remembers.

“Aaaannnd – cut!” assigned Director Konoha Akinori yells. “Well done… I think we’ve enough takes for now…”.

“Great.” Charlene huffs. “I crave for a break and a smoke.”

“No one’s gonna stop you.” Konoha says, then turning to talk to one of the camera guys.

Oikawa leans deeper into the chair. If only Akaashi or Kindaichi was around. Both are still in make-up. He was the first to finish – he obviously needs not much make-up. He would only steal the lead’s show.

Something he’d rather not happening. Because he knows well enough it had already happened before. Like in the 1986 American war film “Platoon”, starring Michael Sheen. Yet Johnny Deep’s role was mostly cut from the film because he was _too_ good, better than Sheen. At least that’s what Oikawa had heard.

“Are we bored?” drawls an all too familiar voice from behind, having Oikawa shivering shortly like he was hit by a fresh breeze of air.

“No.” he answers curtly.

Daishou appears in the corner of his eyes, but Oikawa – stubborn as ever - refuses to look at him. The other male continues. “My scene is supposed to be shot next.”

“How wonderful.”

“I know, it’s a blessing for all of us.”

Oikawa growls, still refusing to even cast a side glance at Daishou. “Then I suppose you can master this in less than three takes.”

Daishou snorts. “I will only need one.”

Before Oikawa manages to address to other again, the light in the room change and focus now on a piano, Oikawa has not seen before. It stands in the room like a mighty swan, hood raised brilliantly like a wing while graceful legs support its frame.

“Daishou?” Rita Cunningham, the first assistant director, comes past Oikawa. “I think you-“

“Yes, I know my scene well. I’d been talking over it numerous times with the director, thank you.” Daishou cuts her off.

“Well, then… do your best.”

When Daishou walks on set, Oikawa’s eyes follow him. The man sits at the piano, dressed in his role’s outfit, hair neatly combed back. He sure is attractive in his own way. He looks like French actor, meandering along a promenade, while waves hit the shore in languid non-crashes: he wears the nonchalance of an acclaimed artist like a piece of cloth.

Daishou skates a finger across the brilliant white keys, feeling its smooth surface. His eyes then come to scan the sheet music, resting on the holder.

The piano sings softly, filling the set and silencing every other sound. Daishou’s eyes are closed, a deep calm on his face. But whenever the lids flutter momentarily open, his gaze dances over the sheets away from the room.

Watching him, hearing his music sparks gasps of admiration, even from Oikawa himself, each note taking them into an unknown land - a mirage of dreams.

Then the piece ends. The last note lingers for a moment, before it grows faint.

The set falls silent.

“And cut.” The director manages to command, before a wave of applause fill out the entire room.

“Magnificent!” Konoa exhales, moving towards Daishou who remains seated at the piano. “I don’t think we’ll need to shoot this again,” he quickly throws a glance over his shoulder. “Right?”

“No, we don’t. We’ve captured it perfectly.” Comes the answer from behind the camera.

“Pity though that we’ve to cut the scene a little…”

Daishou waves a hand. “I know… but as you said: it’s supposed to be a scene that sustains a turning point in the movie. So I’m rather glad, hearing you telling me that I met your expectations.”

“Met my expectation?” Konoha repeats and laughs. “You surpassed them!”

“That’s a relief.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow. _Don’t give us this modesty-shit…_

And as if Daishou had somehow managed to hear his words, he shoots him a distinctive look, perhaps saying “ _Jealousy will be your downfall… “_

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_Yahaba: So… how were your first days on set?  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:02 a.m.}_

 

_Just got back to my Apartment…  
_ _… tired…  
_ _ut it’s been great… boring, but fun to watch  
_ _{April 16_ th, 20..; 2:16 a.m.}

_Yahaba: Having fun on set?  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:19 a.m.}_

_You can’t be serious all the time…  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:22 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: I hope you’re not making a mess…  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:24 a.m.}_

_A mess? I hardly ever do that…  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:27 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: remember that one time you wanted you refused to study with us because you believed in that black cat thing… you’d had to change to road because you’re not supposed to cross a black cat on the street.  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:34 a.m.}_

_I never did that.  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:36 a.m.}_

_Makki: did. You believed you were cursed…  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:38 a.m.}_

_Yahaba: Cursed? And now he’s sitting where again… ??  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:40 a.m.}_

_Makki: I think Hollywood… but he could be somewhere else?...  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:42 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: Hollywood.  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:43 a.m.}_

_Makki: I was actually implying somewhere else, y’know.  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:45 a.m.}_

_Yahaba: I think he’s fallen asleep…?  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 2:59 a.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: He better be sleeping.  
_ _{April 16 th, 20..; 3:00 a.m.}_

_Yahaba: _Always caring ^-^ Good night, Star ;)  
__ _{April 16 th, 20..; 3:03 a.m.}_

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

Oikawa and Akaashi are waiting within the office, Charlene sitting in front of them. Crying.

“I called your brother.” Akaashi informs softly. “He’ll be here in –“

Akaashi is stopped midsentence as the door is roughly opened and Gorden Brown enters the office in a rush. Daishou – Charlene’s brother – follows, perfectly dressed.

Upon Daishou’s arrival, Oikawa feels his mouth falling agape momentarily mouth, in an almost toxic mixture of admiration and abomination. Daishou is regarded as one of the most promising up-coming actors of his age. Today, his somewhat lengthy hair drapes brilliantly over his narrow and hypnotizing eyes. Young women would be stuck in awe and marvel, while a number of other rising actors would perhaps come to look up to him and everything he was able to accomplish already.

Oikawa has to remain collected since Daishou makes a very apparent presence within the small space which they are all gathered in now. Still, he cannot help but let out a minor sigh that no one notices.

That is what most people would certainly come to believe in case they had never met Daishou Suguru before. If they had, they would realize how a pictures could fool.

“Cut!” Konoha voice resounds through the set.

“Was that alright?” Gordon asks.

“Yeah, was good.” Comes the answer from behind the camera. “Ten minutes break.”

Oikawa gaping smile breaks loose as he realizes his gaze had been lingering a little too long on Daishou. He cough, trying to keep a professional exterior.

"Well, well… someone’s stuck in awe?" Daishou drawls unmelodious, as he scans him from head to toe. Licking his lips, a small smirk flashes over his calm face as he looks back up again.

“Yes.” Oikawa composes himself, hands shoving down his pants and reaching for his lip balm. Taking it, he hands it over to Daishou. “It really astonishes me how dry your lips must be. You lick them countless times…”

Daishou looks a little puzzled at the lips balm in Oikawa hands. “Nice try, Oikawa.” He snarls. “But you can’t brush it off now like nothing ever happened.”

“Something happened?” Oikawa repeats, eyes narrowing theatrically.

“Don’t give me that.” The other hisses.

“Is something the matter there?” Gordon’s voice falls between them. Both are suddenly aware of the attention they’re drawing.

“No, nothing.” Daishou smiles. “We were just discussing about the scene… and perhaps got a little carried away, right, _Tooru?”_

“Exactly so, _Suguru_.” Oikawa drawls musically.

“Alright.” Gordon shrug. Oikawa can feel the attention being lifted from his shoulders.

The rest of the day carries on similarly.

Up until Kindaichi’s first scene, Oikawa is nothing but bored. He wishes to play more. To show more. To do more. Just _more._

Yet he is bound to his seat, waiting for his next scene – and with that being shot, half of his work on this film is done.

For now, he sweeps those nasty thoughts aside and concentrates his eyes on Kindaichi, who walks onto set. His trembling hands fail to go amiss.

“Yu-chan.” Oikawa sing-songs, waves a hand. “Got a minute?”

Kindaichi nods nervously, and comes over to sit next to Oikawa, while preparation on set are still under way.

“Yes?”

“Yu-chan, how are you?” Oikawa asks, sending a charming smile.

“Good.” Kindaichi answers simply, a piece of cloths rubbing the sweat from his trembling palms.

“You got this, right?” The browns inquires. “You learnt what you needed to.”

“I did…”

“And I imagine you did it _well.”_ Oikawa points out. “So there’s no point to be so shaken up.”

“I’m just… “ Kindaichi begins, eyes drifting off. “Nervous?” Oikawa finishes. “That’s alright.”

“Is it?”

“Of course. Everybody gets nervous. Even the greatest actors are nervous when they… I don’t know… give a speech… play a very particular scene…?” As Kindaichi remains quietly seated next to him, Oikawa continues. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous. Really. Especially in your current situation. Konoha’s a nice guy. Very patient. So are the others. Not Andy though, but no one likes that guy either way…”

“I heard Norah likes him.”

“She does?” Oikawa exhales incredulously.

Kindaichi shrugs. “That’s what I heard.”

“Ah… set gossip, I guess.” Oikawa sighs, still considering whether the gossip holds truth. “But, that’s not the point. I just want to sa-“

“Kindaichi.” Rita Cunningham commands. “You ready?”

“I guess…” Kindaichi responds meekly.

“He is.” Oikawa shouts back. “He’s more than ready.”

“Oh really?” Rita’s words accompany a short laughter. “Are you his assistant?”

“Only for today.” Oikawa returns, flashing a reassuring smile at Kindaichi. He grips his shoulder. “Go and get’em.”

“Ok.”

“Louder.”

“What?”

“I want you to say it louder.” Oikawa grins.

“OK!”

“Oi, why’s everybody yelling in here?” Konoha nearly explodes behind the camera.

“And he’s patient, you say?” Kindaichi stands from his seat, throwing a nervous look over his shoulders.

“Most of the time.”  
  


_Kindaichi did well in the end, exceeding even some people’s expectations. I was so proud of him… Sadly, Daishou was nowhere to be seen during the time Kindaichi played. Pretty much to only time I wished he was there._

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

Later that evening, Oikawa sits on Akaashi’s bed, enjoying a very late, but hearty dinner. Both had been given a light schedule for shooting tomorrow, and therefore decided they could probably afford to sleep in without getting in trouble.

A fact which Akaashi seems to have grown extremely fond of.

Just… how much of sleep does this man need??

The night wears on perfectly after both had taken showers, and hours seem to meld into the next; They had decided to watch some old movies in Akaashi’s room, as his bed had long proven to be more comfy than the couch in the living room. Settled with ice cream, cocktails and some other sutff, they are lost in the likes of “ _Lifeboat”_ and “ _The Third man”_.

“Words has it, that Norah likes Andy.” Oikawa suddenly speaks.

“She does.” Akaashi comments soundless.

“Apparently.”

“Words also has it, that you and Daishou don’t get along well.”

“Who said that?”

“It’s obvious.” Akaashi deadpans.

“It’s also obvious how fond you are of your bodyguard.” Oikawa counterattacks.

“Don’t change the subject.” The green-eyed male snorts.

“So I’m right?”

Akaashi sighs. “Of course I like him.” Then his head comes to turn to face Oikawa. “But not in the way you’re implying it.”

“I don-“ Oikawa begins, but Akaashi’s dismissive hand tear the words from his mouth. “Don’t even try. Of course you do.”

“I’m not denying it.” Says the brown with a flick of his wrist, before he reaches out for his glass again. “I’m simply saying you two are kind of cute.”

“Cute?” Akaashi echoes. Disbelieving.

“Yes.” Oikawa nibs. “I’d say so.”

“We’re not –“

“Cute?” Oikawa laughs. “Of course, you are.”

Akaashi huffs. “Well, just for the record: Bokuto is my bodyguard. He has a girlfriend and I’m perfectly fine with being single. Don’t make up any stories.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Am not.”

“You are.”

“You’re flirting though.” Oikawa puts his glass back on the nightstand.

“We’re not.”

Oikawa shrugs. “Oh, _whatever_ it is you're calling it.”

From the corner of his eyes, he watches Akaashi’s deadpan face morph into a cross between annoyed and offended – and what’s then left is the standstill between them.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

“Cut!”

Oikawa looks up when the director Konoha leans over to whisper something in his assistant’s ear, and peers back at Kindaichi with the most curious frown.

“Kindaichi, Daishou.” The assistant yells. “Do you have a minute?”

“Is something wrong?” Kindaichi asks, nervously walking over to meet the director and his assistant.

Oikawa sits up, gaze locked on the little gathering behind the cameras. Of course there is no chance he can grasp a single word. While Kindaichi’s face display uncertainty, Daishou’s face is composed as ever.

Both of them nod, and walk away. Oikawa’s eyes follow, before he sees them disappearing for about half an hour.

“Peculiar.” Oikawa mumbles.

 

_Kindaichi and Daishou leaving the set together?_

_I remember thinking how bizarre it actually looked. Why would they leave the set together? They weren’t friends, acquaintances at best but on not so good terms, yet they left without another word._

_Later, we learnt why the left: Konoha had been thinking about how to end the film. And since he had two skilled actors like Daishou and Kindaichi, he asked if they could – for the ending – come together to support the ending with a sing – Daishou playing masterfully on the piano while Kindaichi would beatbox._

_They did well._

_After two takes, though, Konoha wished to have the environment of the set changed. He wanted to have more of the supporting actors in the picture._

 

“And cut!” Konoha voice’s rings out.

A few muffled voices follow, debating whether the take has to be done once more. Eventually, Konoha got up from his seat, clapping his hands twice: “Alright, that’s it for today. No more takes.”

“Good work, everyone.”

“Aye, good work.”

As Konoha disappears again behind the cameras and monitors, Oikawa tilts his head first to the left, then the right side, before his hand comes to rub away the aching pain.

“Good job.” One of the actors says, preparing himself to leave the set as well.

“Who are they?” Daishou speaks up, still sitting at the piano, eyes scanning the unknown supporting actors.

“Who?” Someone asks.

Daishou raises a hand, but doesn’t point out anyone specifically. "These… _extras?”_ Not only Oikawa’s eyes snap open as they fully come to register what exactly Daishou had called the group of supporting actors to which Kindaichi belongs as well.

Yes, they (presumably Oikawa, Akaashi, Daishou,…) are on the new rise of fame and surely Daishou knows that. But Oikawa has a hard time unraveling why he would say something like that – in front of all the supporting actors.

Oikawa is the first to recover. He comes to just shrug it off. "Well, you -"

Daishou smiles at Oikawa with a more narrowing view of his eyes "Ah yes of course. You’re here as well. So then…. I believe you all will be well refined actors one day, yes?" He takes a slight pause to look at us all: "Well I take that as a yes. Then maybe again some of us just DESERVE to be an extra in life to make room for the actual stars."

"Daishou-" Oikawa is now cut off by Akaashi who has not noticed Oikawa as he had seen Daishou first. Daishou turns and a larger smile comes to appear on Daishou's face. “Is there something you wish to add, Akaashi?”

“No.” Akaashi shots him a demonic glare. “I just came to sincerely remind you that you, too, are playing a supporting role.”

The smile on Daishou’s face falters a little. “So?”

“I think it’s rather inappropriate to call them extras… since you, too, are actually nothing more than an extra in this film.” Akaashi informs with a twisted face.

“Inappropriate?” Daishou echoes. “I don’t think so. Do you believe they’ve got the talent and the balls to survive in this business? I doubt they will.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “I don’t-“

“It’s ok, Akaashi.” Kindaichi interrupts, voice shaking. “It’s ok.”

Everybody’s gaze falls on him.

“Yes?”

Kindaichi lifts his head a little, meeting Daishou’s eyes. “Perhaps you’re right.” He mutters, before he turns and leaves the room quietly.

“Well done.” Oikawa hisses, rewarding Daishou with an elbow to the ribs for that. The other hisses, but shoots Oikawa a cunning smile which again reminds him of a certain animal.

Oikawa refuses to address the other and goes after Kindaichi, having Akaashi following his steps.

“Asshole.” Oikawa whispers, when the doors snaps shut behind them.

“You’ll hear no objections from me.” Akaashi deadpans.

The two of them find Kindaichi in the washrooms – he has a habit of escaping to the washrooms whenever he is faced with insecurities or the like.

Although leaning over the sink, when he lifts his head, the mirror reveals a matching set of tears roll from underneath his dark lashes, covering his cheeks in fresh tear tracks. And it fills Oikawa’s heart with ache.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_I believe that today was one of the first moments I realized how cruel the world of actors could be. It had realize that in this world certain classes existed – and only a short amount of time decided in which you’d be put into. I don’t know in which “class” I’ve been put… but whether I like it or not, I see in which one they put Kindaichi._

_Daishou is talented, yes. He is. He knows how to act. He knows how to put on a “fake” mask for the camera, brilliantly capable of conveying his feelings and emotion. And the camera captures them. And people will come to love him. In many ways, he and Akaashi share some similarities. The way they act, professionally, calm and confident._

_Kindaichi does lack a bit of that – but he is talented, too. He really is._

_Just like Kunimi was, my poor little rose._

 

Oikawa puts the diary aside and leans back, letting today’s events pass his mind over and over again. A heavy sigh breaks past his lips when his gaze wanders to the large window and beyond the glass.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

“… you get it?” Konaha checks once again, after having explained the final shot for the hundredth time. Or ninety-ninth? Oikawa had lost track of counting.

“Yes!” Oikawa bellows, louder than intended, shocking the director to the mark.

“G-Good.”

“That was a bit loud.” Oikawa adds, sticking out his tongue.

“It was.” Sounds the Akaashi voice from behind.

“Always quick to leave a comment, aren’t we?” Oikawa waves a dismissive hand.

“Not really.” The other deadpans, not even bothering to lift his gaze as his eyes are focused on the latest changes of the script. “At least I don’t have to change my lines.” He sighs.

“Same here.” Oikawa hoots. “Though I deserved more attention, don’t you think?”

“I think the broom deserved some more.” Akaashi retorts. “He did a splendid job just the other day.”

Oikawa snorts. “Ya ya, whatever, _kashi.”_

Akaashi shots him a demonic glare to which Oikawa responds with a simple smile, two fingers flashing up. The director has not called Oikawa for any re-shoots. A fact which both satisfy and disappoint him. Satisfied since it proves once more how _good_ he actually is – disappointed because it means his part on this film is already over.

Done.

Finished.

Oikawa sighs and leans back in his chair, gaze wandering unsteadily as someone steps next to him. “Why you?” Oikawa growls.

Daishou’s got the worst sort of smile on his face. “Good morning.”

“There’s no such thing when you’re around.” Oikawa hisses.

“I think there actually is.” Daishou frowns. “But whatever… “ He then remains silent, sitting down on the chair saved for Kindaichi.

“Just tell us.” Akaashi huffs, eyes still honed upon the pages.

“Tell you… _what?_ Daishou asks innocently.

“Whatever you have in mind… there must be surly something or why else would you be sitting with us?” Akaashi elaborates further.

“He’s got a point.” Oikawa shrugs.

“Well… do you already know what’s going to be next?” Daishou blurts out, throwing a short smile in their direction.

“Next?”

“After this film is done, premiered and so forth… “ Daishou details.

Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “Why do you need to know this?”

“Curiosity.”

“So far I haven’t really thought about it.” Oikawa speaks truthfully.

“Same.” Akaahsi adds bored.

“I see.” Daishou whispers.

Oikawa groans inwardly. “So… do you have… an idea what’s _… next?”_ The words come out perhaps a little too forced but he doesn’t care.

“I do.” Daishou laughs. He has obviously been waiting for anyone to ask. “I had a phone call last night.”

“Many people have phone calls at night.” Oikawa hisses under his breath.

Daishou rolls his eyes dismissively before continuing. “Well, words spread. People, other than JPA, are interested in my skills. They wish to see me in their productions. While in JPA you gradually warm up to become some sort of decent extra in low-budget production, _they_ don’t waste time. They don’t spend money on extras. Those who stay are those who have proven to be talented and skilled enough to fulfill their demands. Or curtly put,” The corner of Daishou’s lips tug upwards into an ugly grin. “They offered me two roles for two upcoming films.”

Oikawa’s mouth falls slowly agape, but he soon finds his composure again, before saying dryly: “Well, congratulations.”

“Oh thank you.” Daishou grin widens. “I know how hard it might be for you to accept your… _position,_ I guess…?”

Before either Akaashi or Oikawa can declare war, Konoha’s raises his voice: “Ok, let’s wrap this up. Daishou, Gordon, Charlene… last take. Hurry.”

And just before he leaves, Daishou tosses one last look over his shoulder. “I’ll be waiting for you to catch up…”

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

In the final scene, the two main characters part as Charlene’s character believes Seattle has lost its meaning, its colour. Daishou is in the car, waiting for her to enter, when Gordon bends down to steal one last kiss, whispering a few words before he steps back and watches Charlene taking her leave.

“Don’t ever forget Downtown.” Gordon speaks, when the car is supposed to be out of sight.

Silence.

And when Konoha calls for the last time cut, Oikawa stares on, speechless.

That was it.

Downtown.

Oikawa’s first film.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

Years later, newspaper would call this film a defining moment of Oikawa Tooru’s career – it was both, the end and the beginning of something.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapter will be posted around mid-December. No guarantee though.


	21. Breathless; Winners & Losers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point in my life I learned that whenever bad things happened, good things will follow – and vice versa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it. Almost four month have passed since I last updated this story. I can assure you it was not due to a possible lack of motivation or writer’s block; it unfortunately happened to be a very bad timing as December turned out to be messier and the first two months of 2017 busier than expected. I therefore had simply next to no time to sit down and write. 
> 
> I also had to cut / re-write this chapter several times as it felt like a filler… *sigh* Hope you like it though.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, for being so patient with me. I think we have no about 50% of the story behind us… but that’s just a very vague guess. 
> 
> Trying my best to update once a month, but I do not make any promises….

“Can you believe it?” 

“What…?”

“That we just finished working on our first film.” Oikawa details. Akaashi shrugs, heading towards the fridge in their shared apartment. “So…?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t it make you at least a little excited??”

Akaashi hesitates, taking one or two breaths before proceeding his action. “Well, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Oikawa repeats, head falling flat onto the table. “Kinda?”

His outburst draws an annoyed sigh from Akaashi, declaring: “Yes, kinda.”

Oikawa lifts his head, shooting his roommate a perplexed glare, disbelieving how the other could just be kinda excited while he feels like exploding into pieces. His adrenaline run high through his system and he has a hard time keeping his voice down.

“I guess I will never understand you.” Oikawa utters, jumping up again. “Let’s celebrate this and-“

“No.” Akaashi cuts him off, waving his hand dismissively. “First, I wish to take a shower.”

“Got it.” Oikawa nods. “But then-“

“THEN I will go for dinner.” Akaashi proceeds matter-of-factly.

“Understood. And after-“

“-After that I … I…” Akaashi stops.

“Yes?” Oikawa hums.

“I will tell you once I’ve come this far.”

“So you have no idea what’s gonna get down from there on, am I right?” Oikawa chuckles. “Which is perfect because that gives you plenty of chances to go out with me. I’ve never been out here.”

“You went jogging just this morning.” Akaashi deadpans.

“You know what I mean.” Oikawa makes a face. “I have next to no idea what life is like here.”

“Busy.”

“And?” Oikawa investigates.

Akaashi shrugs. “Even busier?”

“That can’t be true.” Oikawa yells. “Look at all the lights. That’s not just companies and the like. There sure are bars and clubs to hang out.”

“Yes.” Akaashi nods, walking towards his room. Oikawa follows uncalled, explaining. “So, we’re both young and sexy… why not go out a little and enjoy ourselves.”

“You’ve got a boyfriend.”

“Yes.” Oikawa sighs. “I do. I did NOT mean that kind of fun. I meant more like a couple drinks and a bit of talking.”

“Talking?” Akaashi throws him a short glance over his shoulder.

“Yes?” Oikawa confirms confused. “Why are you so surprised now?”

Akaashi shrugs. It’s the third time he shrugs actually. “You don’t look like someone who’d go to a bar, let alone a club, and only _talk…_ Especially talk to someone who’s barely interested in joining you.”

“You wouldn’t join me?”

“At least not tonight.”

“But Akaashi-“

“Yes, _Oikawa?”_ Akaashi returns. “I will hang out with you, if that is your wish… just _not_ tonight. Tonight-”

The front door springs open and interrupts Akaashi’s in his explanation and when Akaashi’s recognizes the intruder, a scowl appears on his face. “Bokuto… how can I help?”

“Hey hey hey, Akaaashi!” He yells, drawing out pretty much each syllables of his name until it’s nearly unrecognizable. “You’re done right? The work is done!”

“Yes, it is.”

“That means we can hang out, right? That needs to be celebrated!” Bokuto raises an excited fist. In the meantime, Oikawa chuckles inwardly, but remains composed on the outside.

“Not you, too.” Akaashi groans. “Is it impossible to get some free time and space?”

“Space?” Bokuto frowns. “But the apartment is-“

“I’m NOT referring to the apartment.” Akaashi snorts, side stepping and into his room. But Bokuto is faster - he grabs him around the waist and uses his weight to haul him to a stop, nearly toppling them both onto the floor.

“What?” Akaashi throws him an angry glare.

“Are you ok?” Bokuto asks.

“Yes. Just… please – I really wish to have some time for me now.”

“Ok.”

Releasing Akaashi’s wrist and back up a little. “I’m sorry.”

Oikawa watches the interaction between them with enormous interest. It reminds him a bit of his relationship with Iwaizumi, although their constant bickering had probably served as the main foundation to build their friendship upon. Akaashi and Bokuto appear close, knowing each other’s up and downsides and could perhaps tell when it’s best to leave them alone.

“Thanks though.” Akaashi says, lips tugging upwards in a swift smiles before he resumed his business.

“Whatcha doin’, Oi-ks?” Bokuto sings out, stepping closer and throwing an easy arm around his neck. “Interest in going out?”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “Interest, yes… but do NOT call me Oiks.”

“Oikawa.” Bokuto repates, carefully pronouncing each syllable of his name.

“Much Better, Bo-chan.”

“Hm…” Bokuto eyes his new companion. “Without Akaashi I’m not in the mood to go out though…”

Oikawa snorts and shoves Bokuto away. “Then leave. Meanwhile, I will take a bath. Well-deserved, of couse.”

Bokuto rolls his eyes at that. “See ya around.” He heads towards the doors but comes to a full stop once more. “Let’s hang out when Akaashi’s more in the mood to join us. It’s fun.”

“Deal.”

With that, he flounces away towards the entrance.

After the front door closes behind Bokuto, Oikawa remains for a moment silent in the kitchen, unsure whether to take actually a bath or not. He stares at the ceiling, trying to empty his mind of any thought, good or bad – what exactly could be bad right now? - and it works, for a while.

Something is missing, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

He decides to take a bath and heads for his room. Soon, he is in his bathroom, air filled with the sweetest smell possible, and lowers himself into warm water. And then it hits him: Kuroo’s missing. He leans back, when he starts thinking about what he could possibly text Kuroo when they get to talk later tonight, announcing the big news of having finished his first film.

He convinces himself that he’ll take care of all that when he is done with bathing.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

“Let me tell you guys: You. Did. Well!” Duncan declares, waving his hand in excitement, eyeing each of them swiftly. Oikawa, Akaashi, Kindaichi, Daishou and several others. “Very well. I can’t put into words how proud I am.” He taps his chin. “No, I really can’t. Anyway! Let us all better not forget why I summond you.”

“To discuss our promotion work?” Kindaichi says.

“Yo- you know…?” A bizarre mixture of shock and surprise flashes over Duncan’s face. “But… how..?”

“You’ve already mentioned it a dozen times.” Akaashi deadpans, arms folded across his chest.

“Oh I did?” Duncan laughs. “Right. So. Uhm… “ he trails off momentarily. “Anyway. Promotion work. Important work. Very important. Some actors do it rather well while other somehow manage to… miss the ball, so to speak. Promotion is all about giving away the right amount of information without spoiling the film itself.”

“Unlike trailers sometimes.” Oikawa snorts.

“Exactly.” Duncan nods approvingly. “Yet you must be careful. Some people always try to get more informations out of the actors than they’re allowed to give. Of course, “Downtown” is not, well… never as anticipated as Star Wars for instance. But! All of you should treat the film like it’s been anticipated ever since its first announcement.

“We better do so.” Daishou balances his head from side to side. “I want to move on with bigger projects in the future.”

“That’s the spirit.” Duncan confirms, leaning back in this chair. “The premiere will take place in Seattle – who would’ve thought – and all of you are invited to come. Well… actually not invited… you better come or Nekomata will have his doubts whether to keep working with you or not.”

From the corner of his eye, Oikawa sees Kindaichi swallow hard. Only now he realizes, how pale the other is. “Perhaps no breakfast.” Oikawa thinks, shrugging.

“The night before the premiere,” Duncan continues, “some of you are invited to join the director and me to the comic con in San Diego.”

Cheers resound through the room.

“Comic con?”

“Seriously?”

Oikawa feels shots of nervous electricity through his veins, feeling the level of anticipation and excitement rising. He throws a quick glance at Akaashi, whose lips quirk upwards, just the hint of a smile.

“What do you mean by “some”?” Kindaichi asks. Oikawa recognizes how the other almost chokes on the last word, presumably hoping that his insecurity doesn’t show from the outside.

“Well, since more people have been involved in this project, you will understand that it’s impossible to have all joining us at the interview in San Diego.”

Kindaichi nods.

“We will let you know soon who’s coming with us and who we ask to go straight to Seatlle, waiting for the rest to join. Ok?”

Most nod in agreement. Daishou regards Duncan for a moment, perhaps thinking of a way to give his thoughts shape; but in the end he remains quietly seated, eyes honed upon the other.

While Duncan continues his monologue about the importance of promotion work, Oikawa leans towards Kindaichi. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes.” Kindaichi whispers. ““I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

“Could have fooled me there,” Oikawa mutters.

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_After we had our meeting with Duncan, we were mostly free to whatever we wanted. I took the chance to explore Hollywood, visiting the place I’ve always dreamed of: small café where perhaps some of the greatest legends must’ve walked in as well, the walk of fame and so forth. Sometimes, I had Akaashi to join me, other times I wanted go on my own._

_In the meantime, the director and his crew were busy giving the film its final shape: it had to be cut, the music recorded and the trailers submitted._

_Spring broke in a pleasantly mild summer, when the announced was made that the work on “Downtown” was finished. And numerous training and acting lessons later, the cast sat together as the trailer had officially been announced and uploaded._

 

“It’s looks fantastic.” Kindaichi breathes, after the third time of re-watching the trailer.

“It’s our work.” Oikawa beams.

“Of course it is.” Akaashi deadpans. “What else did you expect to see?”

Oikawa’s cheeks flush in embarrassment as he avoids meeting Akaashi’s calculating gaze.

“You are in the trailer, Aaaakaaashi!” Bokuto, who’d been invited to their “trailer premiere”, exhales, a wide grin flickering over his features. “How cool is that?”

“Hey, I’m in there, too.” A spike of jealousy erupts in Oikawa’s chest, but he is quick to ignore it.

“Seen.” Bokuto comments. “Considering the amount of time though, Akaashi has had more screen time than you.”

“It’s only a trailer.” Akaashi sighs.

Before anyone else manages to voice their opinion, Kindaichi interrupts. “I have no screen time at all.”

His voice feels heavy, and Oikawa feels the bitter taste of guilt rising from his stomach. How could he be so selfish?

“That means nothing.” He utters quickly. “Remember that… for instance Judi Dench had not even a single second of screen time in the trailer of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children.”

“That’s because she was a supp- Ah, Aka-ashi!” Boktuo hisses. “What was that for?”

“We ARE supporting actors as well, now aren’t we?” They nod, but Oikawa remains unconvinced. Therefore, his eyes land on Kindaichi once more. “Yutaro.” He says, carefully pronouncing each syllable of his name. “That you can’t be seen in the trailer means nothing. A trailer is limited in its running time, right? What would happen if each actor, even the tea lady in the background would get five seconds of screen time in trailer?”

“A super long trailer.” Bokuto laughs.

“Correct Einstein.” Oikawa confirms. Bokuto rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug. “No one watches a trailer exceeding the running time of plenty of films, _right?”_

“Right.” Kindaich’s lips twitch in the suggestion of a smile.

“See!” Oikawa announces with a pang of relief. “Now, who wants to be so grumpy on a day when we actually planned on celebrating our first milestone in our careers?”

“We celebrate?” Bokuto hoots.

“Of course.” Oikawa approves. He is too happy to let anyone ruin his mood. He watches another flicker of a smile hushing over Kindaichi’s features.

Yet, they talk a little longer than intended, about other things, until the conversation dies out and Akaashi flips on a film. 

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_Iwa-chan: Happy Birthday Trashykawa.  
_ _{July 20 th, 20..; 5:28 a.m.}_

_Mattsun: Yo, happy birthday over there ^-^  
_ _{July 20 th, 20..; 6:04 a.m.}_

_Makki: Happy B-day ‘-‘  
_ _{ July 20 th, 20..; 6:17 a.m.}_

Oikawa’s lips twitch in the suggestion of a smile after reading his friends texts. Sighing, he types out his reply.

 

_Awww… guys! You’re simply the best!  
_ _Thanks <3 <3 – but, I’m not Trashy @Iwa-chan  
_ _{July 20_ th, 20..; 7:21 a.m.}

_Iwa-chan: Are  
_ _{July 20 th, 20..; 7:28 a.m.}_

_Not.  
_ _{July 20 th, 20..; 7:29 a.m.}_

_Makki: Here we go again… *SIGHS*  
_ _{July 20 th, 20..; 7:31 a.m.}_

Oikawa drops the cell phone. He remains sprawled on his bed for a while longer, staring at the ceiling while all sorts of thoughts pass his mind. He then yelps as loud music blasts throughout the bedroom. Flashing on the screen of his phone is a picture of very mess-haired male. 

 

_Happy Birthday, To-chan_ _> winking cat<  
_ _Wish you all the best; you’re the perfect arrangement of atoms – and you know it. So keep on smiling.  
_ _{July 20_ th, 20..; 7:41 a.m.}

 

" _Perfect arrangement of atoms” Oikawa whispers,_ a flush creeping up his neck. “Where did he read that again…?” 

Still, he beams ever so brightly, typing out his reply. Before he manages to press “send”, he hesitates. Something stings. Uncomfortably. Right in his chest.

 

_THANK YOU! <3_   
_{July 20 th, 20..; 7:42 a.m.}_

And then…

 

_Wish you were here though…  
_ _{July 20 th, 20..; 7:42 a.m.}_ 

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

“Tsu-ki-shi-ma” Oikawa says, carefully pronouncing each syllable of his name.

Tsukishima had been sitting quietly in front of him, eyes glued upon several papers and ignoring Oikawa.

“Yes?” He says after a while.

“I’m bored.” Oikawa begins. “How do we proceed now… now that…” he trails off, brown brows furrowing deeply as he looks for a replacement word.

“The film’s soon done.” Tsukishima announces. “The responsible person will soon get in touch with you.”

“Means… what?”

The blonde takes his eyes off the papers for a split second to look at Oikawa. “Means you’ll have work. Promotion work, to be more specific.”

“Oh, good.” Oikawa approves with a pang of relief. “Good news.”

“Once the critiques are out, we’ll see if you’ve proven yourself or not.”

“Proven?” Oikawa repeats.

“Those critiques are necessary for the company to see whether to continue working and sponsoring you or…”

“… to kick me out?” Oikawa finishes.

“No, people don’t get kicked out because of what a newspaper says.” Tuskishima says. “But it nevertheless has an influence on several things. Which way your career is heading, to name one.”

Silence falls between them. Oikawa is frozen, torn between wanting to know more and pulling away from the topic at all.

“It’d be best for you if you just do what you’ll be asked to do.” Tuskishima informs, settling a little deeper into his chair. “But since you’re here…” he shoves two papers in Oikawa’s direction. “I was asked to pass this on to you.”

Oikawa takes the papers, eyes blowing wide as he reads: “Bodyguards?” He exhales.

“Not professional ones.” Tuskishima snort. “But they’re about to finish their training any time soon. In order to do so, they actually need someone to be “assigned” to.”

“Me.”

“Exactly, Einstein.”

“Mean.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “The department has told me that the two guys work best when they’re together.” And under his breath he adds. “Freaks.”

“Nishinoya Yuu and Tanaka Ryuunosuke.” Oikawa reads aloud. “So I’ll get not just one-“

“Two, yes.” Tsukishima cuts off. Oikawa eyes begin to gleam. “You will meet them soon, I guess tomorrow…” Tsukishima sighs. “They know your apartment number so I’m guessing the will drop by some time during the day and introduce themselves.”

“Something to look forward to.” Oikawa hums in utter excitement.

“Yes, yes.” The blonde waves. “But that’s enough for now. I’m busy.”

“Thank you for your valuable time.” Oikawa hoots, literally jumping off his chair. “See you.”

Although Oikawa had only received new about getting his own bodyguards, he considers it still as quite a significant change of course. _What kind of face Akaashi makes when I tell him the news?_ he thinks, excitement and anticipation boiling within him.

His good mood though would fade sooner than expected when he runs into a not so pleasant meeting, in which harsh words are exchanged.

"I wonder why extras like you have managed to be accepted." Daishou snaps, taking a small pause to – perhaps – consider the amount of venom he would shortly pour out over Kindaichi. “I stuns me deeply how naïve so people can actually be to believe they are worthy to play among other refined actors.”

“Well… I…” Kindaichi stumbles, but goes silent when Daishou raises his hand. “No need to explain yourself.”

A short silence follows before Daishou hisses: “Why don’t you just leave quietly?”

Oikawa’s eyes snap as he moves forward, having not yet completely registered everything. “Are we again picking a fight?” Oikawa smile at Daishou with a more narrowing view of his eyes. A smile so unreservedly dark it might as well kill Daishou in an instant.

The other responds the smile. “No, I am not. I was just thinking that we have quite a large numbers of _extras_ stumbling around in here…

“Yes, now that you mention…” Oikawa exhales, “there have been a lot of _small_ extras wandering around.”

Daishou smile falters briefly. “I see.” He spits when a a larger smile comes then to appear on his face. “Let’s see how long the extra survives.”

And with that, Daishou leaves without having another look back at them.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

“Tanaka Ryuunosuke.” Announces the taller, before the shorter of the two men ads. “And Nishinoya Yuu. Pleased to meeting you.”

Oikawa regards the two of them for a moment. Tanaka, the taller of the two, has a shaved head with a widow's peak and sharp eyes which somewhat leads many to mistake him as a delinquent – inclusve Oikawa, if he had to be completely honest. Although average in height, he still has a lean yet strong build.

Nishinoya has despite his shorter stature, has a fairly muscular build. Oikawa guesses that he regularly styles his wild dark brown hair by ruffling most of it upwards, adding perhaps another 10 cm to his height; the tiny tuft of hair that falls over his forehead appears to be bleached a dirty blond.

“Pleasure.” Oikawa tips his head to the side. “So you two are the bodyguards that have been assigned –“

“To Oikawa Tooru.” They not in unison. “And we can assure you that no one will gets past the two of us.” Tanaka speaks, before Nishinoya ads. “We’re like a wall.”

“That’s good.” Oikawa comments, glancing slightly down at Tanaka and a little more at Nishinoya. His lips quirk upwards. “Well, then I better look forward to working with you.”

“Yes!” They announce far too loud.

“SHhhhh!” Oikawa hisses. “My roommate is still sleeping. He hates to be woken by any sort of noise.”

“Ah, ok.” Nishinoya whispers. “Got ya.” Tanaka nods, pretending to be deeply concerned though Oikawa could tell otherwise.

“Anyway,” Oikawa continues. “I have just been informed that the work on the film are about to be completed any time soon. Actors have in the meantime been asked to promote the film… and I was asked to join the director and several others at the annual comic con in San Diego. Therefore –“

“We will protect you in San Diego.” Tanaka declared.

“No matter what.” Nishinoya ads.

There is something predatory about their looks that Oikawa both feared and liked. “As long as you guys don’t cause any troubles, yes.”

“Do we look like troublemakers?” Nishinoya asks, displaying utter shock.

“Well…” Oikawa trails off.

“We take this very seriously.” Tanaka assures.

“I do hope so.” Oikawa says.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

_  
Comic con. San Diego._

_It’s hard to make someone understand – to measure the exact amount of time – of how long I have been waiting for… this. Countless nights had I dreamed of it. Countless times had I wondered what sort of question I’d be asked._

_And now… after a short flight & quiet flight I was there. San Diego. Cool place._

_Besides me and my two bodyguards/troublemakers (they managed to break not just the apartment’s front door because they thought there was a fire, but also kicked Akaashi out of his own room because they initially thought he was a stalker), Director Konoha, screenwriter Sarukui, Akaashi (and Bokuto), main actor/actress Gordon Brown & Charlene Barker and… Daishou Suguru. _

_Why him, too? Why not Kindaichi (who’s asked to go directly to Seattle). Daishou did a decent job in his role – but Kindaichi did better. He should’ve been invited, too._

_It can’t be helped._

_Anyway, now! San Diego. Time to shine. Be a star._

_Once we got off the plane, we went immediately to comic co… and my heart was pounding so hard I thought I’d soon pass out…_

 

“So, good morning/evening everyone!” Rita Dohorthy’s, who would lead the interview, booming voice helps to quieten down the noise. The film, though actually a low-budget movie, has managed to spark a more than decent the interest among film critiques and fans. When Oikawa had first entered the room and took a seat next to Akaashi, it had taken him slightly off-guard that people are actually anticipating “his” film

“Hello Hello.” Konoha’s voice is easily recognizable in between the background noise filling the room.

“Well, I guess we start with you, Akinori, if that’s alright. You’ve been on both sides, in front and behind the camera. Not in this film of course, but you have been in several films and now finally directing your own… how does that feel? What are you going to take away from this experience?”

“Well, to be honest, it’s been a blessed journey this far.” Konaha answers. “This business has given me some extraordinary insights, has provided me with some valuable lessons and has helped me to understand how – as a director – you get the actor to do what you want him to do.”

“And… how?” Rita presses on.

“Make sure there’s always food nearby.” Konoha chuckles, before adding. “Sorry, to disappoint those who have been expecting some wise words.”

“You’ve never been a wise one anyway.” Sarukui’s tease draws several laughter’s from the audience. 

“Gordon, what do you say? Was it necessary to have food nearby?” Rita asks.

“It depends.” Gordon laughs. “There were days when I absolutely needed it and there were other days when, - kidding. Of course not. No. Food wasn’t necessary.”

“What was it then that helped you to keep doing what you were doing?”

“Curly put, my character.” Gordon answers. “You know, my character does have such an interesting story, and to play that and deliver the actions and dialogues onto the screen is… or was truly a fulfilling and valuable experience I’m gonna take with. Therefore, I’m more than grateful that I got casted to play this role.”

“Charlene, how about you? Can you say the same?”

“The way I got casted is crazy… but I guess the world is a crazy place to be, right?” She answers, lips tugging upwards in the hint of a smile. “I wasn’t afraid. Nervous, but not afraid. Because I wanted to do this.”

“And we were nervous to offer you this role.” Sarukui admits, laughing. A few whistles among the audience could be heard. “But no, actually, what made me nervous was the fact that Konoha was assigned to be the film’s director.”

Barking laughter’s follow during which Konoha turns to face Sarukui and asks. “Why?”

“We were afraid of the outcome.”

More laughter. Konoha smiles shortly.

“But, no, hear me out.” Sarukui demands, and slowly the noise died out. ““The way Konoha Akinori not just understands but also collaborates with each cast member and crew and pushes you to bring out the best of you, is very inspiring and will remain as a good memory and lesson in my mind for many years to come.”

Another almost-smile flickered across the director’s face.

“What can you tell us about the film?” Rita asks. “Or the process of making it?”

“It was a joy making this film. Because this whole journey, involving all those different components, has been extraordinary, to be honest.” Konaha explains. “Up until now, I’ve been working to finally get something out that hopefully will still be watched in a couple of years and manages to keep its spirit. And I suppose some things which you see in the film just organically happened.” Konoha continues, gesturing at Daishou further up the table. “There’s this brilliant scene with Daishou that, in the script, pretty much said “sits down and plays piano” – in the final cut, however, this scene has become so wonderful and meaningful and acts like a great metaphor. Brilliant things aren’t always planned.”

“Apart from his talent on the piano, we felt it would show the audience a different side of Daishou and his character.” Sarukui details.

“Good point here,” Rita says and leans a little forward, ”reminds me of addressing some of the films supporting actors, too. Hello up there.” She waves quickly. “Daishou, what can you tell us about the mood on set?”

“I’d say the mood on set was great.” Daishou says. “When I got up I knew what my day would be like; a lot of waiting and watching and more waiting… so I tried my best to chat with almost everybody, to get into touch with new people. And Konoha, as director, did a great job because he wouldn’t walk around and trying to stop us from getting to know each other – he actually made sure that we had enough time to chat and get to know each a bit better by each passing day and I guess you can see that perfectly now on the screen.”

Oikawa snorts quietly. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Akaashi frowning. Nevertheless, Oikawa smile does not falter, but there might perhaps be annoyance in his sharp gaze Then…

“Tooru, what have you learned over the course of making this film?” Rita asks.

Oikawa swallows hard. _Come now… speak… that’s what you wanted._ Yet has his tongue ever felt so heavy like today? His heart picks up and he feels sweat gathering on his neck. “I learned to be more patient. I’m still not as good at it as I want to be… but I’m getting there.” He pushes before swallowing hard against the lump or whatever sits in his throat.

“How emotionally were you involved in this project?” Rita says, again addressing Oikawa. All eyes land on him once more. And Oikawa feels it.

_Breathe, then speak,_ he reminds himself, while gathering and putting the next words into correct order. “It’s a very emotional moment actually, you know. First film role, working with a lot of talented people, getting your make-up done, and so forth… it really felt like a dream. And I’m still wondering whether I will wake or continue dreaming it.”

“Isn’t that what we want to do? Entertain people? Give them a good time at the movies? I guess that’s why we want to do what we do.” Charlene ads, winking.

“Exactly so.” Daishou nods approvingly.

“Next question… Akaashi, what would be the greatest achievement for you, perhaps as an actor?”

“The greatest achievement for me would be… to be a part in someone else’s life I perhaps will never get to know, meet or see anywhere in the road of my life. Knowing that someone cares for the character you play in a film, probably they will show this particular film to their kids… I mean, what could be better than that?”

“Well spoken.” Konoha says.

“Agreed.” Rita clears her throat. “If you were the director of this film, would you change something?”

“No.” Akaashi answers curtly. Gordon nods in agreement.

“I don’t know if I wanted to.” Charlene says.

“Then… what do you like best about the film?”

“I like the ending.” Oikawa says. “In a sense, it’s a happy ending because neither character is heartbroken. Perhaps a little disappointed that it didn’t work out… but when you look closer and think about it for minute, you see that the film ends with a possibility. I believe that’s the best point of the film that can be transferred to our daily life. And end does not mean it’s the end of the road; it doesn’t mean you have nowhere to go. And end provides you with new opportunities to connect with the next story, the next adventure, and the journey.”

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

Flashing on the screen of his phone, a loving smile flickers across Oikawa’s face when the device reveals a picture of very mess-haired male.

 

_So, how was the premiere?_ _> winking cat<  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:41 a.m.}_

 

 

_Amazing. Loved it. A real milestone. I’d almost prefect…  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:44 a.m.}_

 

 

_“Almost?”  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:46 a.m.}_

_You weren’t there…  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:47 a.m.}_

 

_Sorry about that… :'(  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:48 a.m.}_

 

_There will be a next time though.  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:49 a.m.}_

 

_Sound like someone has already another project coming up…?  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:51 a.m.}_

 

_Kind of… but I will tell you all about it when I call you, ‘k?  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:53 a.m.}_

_Because I feel completely worn… exhausted… tired… dead…  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:54 a.m.}_

 

 

_Right. Better sleep now.  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:55 a.m.}_

_G’night  
_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:56 a.m.}_

_Night ***HUGS & KISSES*  
**_ _{September 10 th, 20..; 2:58 a.m.}_

 

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

The film runs for several week but still underperforms heavily at the box office, primarily due to the film's unexpected sarcastic tone. However, it nonetheless receives widespread acclaim from critics and audience alike. 

And Oikawa reads all of them. 

Carefully. 

_“Downtown”_ _succeeds on the level of pure spectacle, but provides a surprising level of depth and humor as well_ – Washington Morning Post

_Akinori Konoha delivers a film that capable of conveying meaning to images without dialog or music; a film which you could feel and understand without needing to see it. – FilmStars_

_Wonderful recreation of the mid-80’s, terrific piano performance by the young Suguru Daishou, what else could we ask for?_ – The Daily Telegraph

_Oikawa sure makes his living by being every girl's fantasy. Charming, sexy, charismatic, he gets all the attention he deserves. It may soon be unraveled as to how many girls’ eyes were drawn to his movements throughout the film. –_ Rolling Stone

_Undeniably sexy, he melts his characterization with a charming, yet straightforward, performance…_ \- The Atlantic

_Oikawa, Daishou and Akaashi all manage to bring their characters vividly to life._ \- Variety

_Keiji Akaashi achieves a nice mix of optimism without coming across as naïve, and distance without appearing cold or introverted._ – The New York Times

_Suguru Daishou who gives excellent support with really a very poignant piano moment._ – The Chicago Tribune

_Stylish, great humor and wonderful acting._ – Digital Journal

_A rousing and energetic piece. Downtown was made knowing that not everyone would like it, but knowing everyone would at least appreciate it for its artistic ingenuity. And that’s just one of the film’s greatest strength._ – The Hollywood Reporter

 

_Tooru Oikawa – a new star is born._ – Rotten Tomatoes  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

  

_At some point in my life I learned that whenever bad things happened, good things will follow – and vice versa. There is no certainty, no guarantee in life that everything goes as you desire. Sometimes it’s a matter of work or time, other times it’s the cause of a long, but steadily strength-sapping force that will make you stumble and fall._

_I woke early that day, mood fairly good and ready to meet Duncan as he had some big news for me – perhaps my next role?_

_After a lonely breakfast I walked down when I run into Kindaichi, who was also heading towards the lift. Unlike me though, he had suitcases with him, face pale and eyes tired and wet._

“Good morning, Kin-chan.” Oikawa says, carefully scrutinizing the other. “Are we going somewhere? Vacation?”

“No.” Kindaichi replies sourly, swallowing hard.

“Where do you go then?” Oikawa presses on, when they enter the lift. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Kindaichi pressing the “E” button. That sure is quite a change of course that happened in less than …. Ten? Twenty seconds?

“I… well… not vacation.”

“Oh, are you going to a film location?” Oikawa shoulder tremble, lightly first, betraying the strange, forced confidence in his voice, he himself realizes when watches his on reflection in the lift’s mirror.

“I’m going… home…” Kindaichi’s words manifest unnecessary guilt when he answers, as if he was apologizing for his lack of words.

The lift begins to lower.

“Visiting family?”

Kindaichi shakes his head. “No. I… I’m leaving. I quit.”

Oikawa catches his breaths. Somehow he knew what Kindaichi had been getting at, but he had feared that those words would actually be spoken.

When it remembers what it is supposed to be doing, Oikawa’s heart sprints to make up for lost time. Thudding harder and more painfully than it had hardly ever done before.

“Kin… Yūtarō.” Oikawa says. “Please, don’t stop dreaming now. You’ve come so far.”

“I’m not talented enough to remain in this business.” The other responds dryly. “I’ve never been.”

“Don’t sa-

“No, Oikawa, no.” he cuts him off, waving a furious hand. “You have the talent, Akaashi, even Daishou has it. I, in return, do not. So it’s best to leave it there before things become more complicated, difficult and unbearable.” He explains with slight tears gathering in his eyes.

“But… “ Oikawa begins, but Kindaichi just shakes his head, a silent command for Oikawa to stop. He still refuses to drop the matter. “Yūtarō, let me tell you this: you may not see it but you ARE talented. Your talent has helped you to come this far. It has always been travelling with you. And it always will.”

A nervous silence follows as Oikawa stills his tongue, eyes honed upon the other.

“I appreciate your words… but I don’t belong here. I’m sorry.”

“Yūtarō …” Oikawa schools his features as best he could, ignoring the burning tears and the lump in his throat.

The door open and Kindaichi, grabbing his suitcases once more, moves forward. Oikawa follows, quiet until the stand in front of JPA.

“Oikawa…” Kindaichi says, turning to face Oikawa, hurt displayed on his face. “I’m not very skilled at acting like you are. No matter how much or how hard I work… “.

As clam as he could, Oikawa tries again: “I know sometimes you just aren't suited for a certain skill and it would be better to cut your losses, but I always think you should rather give it some time before giving up completely. Maybe circumstances change and you learn something down the line that drastically changes how you view things or provides an opportunity to boost your skill and then things start moving in the desired direction again. Anything could happen.”

Another silence falls between them in which a taxi, presumably ordered by Kindaichi to give him a ride to the airport.

The car stops, the drivers gets off the car and says: “Kindaichi Yūtarō?”

Kindaichi nods. And while the driver and Kindaichi load the car, Oikawa remains frozen, unable to process _any_ of the past two or three minutes. He watches wordlessly Kindaichi, until he turns to face Oikawa again, eyes slightly red.

“Thank you for being so kind… but… I’ve already made me decision.”

“Yūtarō …”

“I wish you the best of luck.” 

Then, without another exchange of words, Kindaichi gets into the car and Oikawa, still unable to move, watches the car leave.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critique is always welcomed & appreciated.


	22. After the rain – bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three seconds pass before…
> 
> “Action!” 
> 
> … the world descends into madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critique is always welcomed. :)

Just two days after Kindaichi’s departure, Akaashi and Oikawa had been informed to meet Nekomata Yasufumi, the founder of JPA. It had not gone amiss that Kindaichi left for reasons other than his sad declaration of not “being talented enough” to remain in JPA.

Now, Oikawa and Akaashi are sitting in a very well structured room with a simple design yet an elegant professionalism. After they had been waiting for a while Oikawa realizes that they could start a chat to attempt and bide the time as they are waiting for their boss anyway.

In midsentence though Oikawa stops immediately once the door behind them closes and an elderly man comes past them, sitting down across the table. Though age had long begun wrinkling his face, he walks around perfectly well without a hunched back or anything of the sorts.

His eyes land first on Akaashi, then move over to Oikawa. “Let me get straight to the point: do you happen to know why Kindaichi Yūtarō chose to cancel his contract and leave our business?”

“Well… “ Oikawa hesitates. What should he say? The truth? Would Nekomata understand Kindaichi’s decision? Would he simply drop him as “another fallen star” or would he himself get in touch with Kindaichi once more, trying to convince him to overthink the decision he’d made.

“Oikawa?”

“Yes, sir.” Oikawa’s backs tenses involuntarily. “It’s just… I can’t believe he’s really left and given up on his dreams.”

Nekomata folds his hands. “He’s not the first and won’t be the last.”

“I know, but-“

“It is his decision. Once made, we – no matter whether we agree or disagree – have to accept it.” Nekomata says. “But I still wish to know why?”

It’s Akaashi’s turn to speak. “If I were to guess… I’d say he couldn’t quite handle the pressure…”

“What pressure?”

“I think that, generally spoken, he was and perhaps still is unsure whether he could actually bear this “burden” or not.” Akaashi details. “He appeared to be very unsure about whether he’d have the talent to actually live up to his dream. He was unsure what to do when facing criticism.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t.” Oikawa declares firmly. “Sure, he was struggling… but everyone has those moments.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nekomata rises a single eyebrow.

“I mean that everyone has times in which you think everything you do will only result in failure. However hard you work or however often you ask for people’s advice to prevent yourself from failure.”

“Well, this business is very unstable. There is not guarantee that one will come to success, no matter how much talent he or she might be gifted with.” Nekomata responds.

“Yes, but he is talented.”

“But perhaps not talented enough for this business?” Nekomata counters, drawing a silent snort from Oikawa before continuing. “You see, I have seen many talented people walking into this building, their chin high up and believing they could simply touch something and it’d turn into gold. But once you enter this building, you learn that the work – the hard work – has only just begun. And that’s when many people, also the talented ones, come to realize that this might not be the work they wish to do for decades. Some could’ve surely been nominated for a golden globe, an Oscar even, by now. But they refused to work.” Nekomata sighs. “It’s not only talent that matters. It is the work that matters. And the time that you are willing to sacrifice in order to work towards your goal and become and established actor.”

They fall into a short silence in which Oikawa hears the faint sound of the vacuum cleaner somewhere in the corridor.

“It saddens me whenever I see young and talented people leaving the company yet it is their decision and I have to accept. It would be an outright lie if I said we try whatever we can to persuade them to stay. We don’t. Because we accept their decisions. Because you decide what feels right to you. You may regret it later, yes, but that is then something this person has to live with.”

Oikawa swallows. Though hard to admit, he knows Nekomata is right. He grunts and balances his head slowly from side to side, unfamiliar with the tension racking his body. He feels both Akaashi’s and Nekomata’s gaze lingering on him.

“You are young,” Nekomata begins, “and I understand why this troubles you more than you give away. But what I’ve learned about becoming older is that you struggle less with letting go of things that are out of your control. And Kindaichi’s decision, as hard as you find it to accept, is out of your control.”

The older man regards him for a moment, before glancing at Akaashi. “Any questions?”

“No.” Akaashi shakes his head.

They talk a little longer, about other things, until Nekomata declares their meeting as closed and dismisses them.

Oikawa would later condemn this day as a bad one. After leaving Nekomata’s office, he parts from Akaashi as he feels a headache coming and therefore wishes go outside and catch some fresh air. “Perhaps it helps me freeing me head a little…” he forces a laugh before leaving.

Once outside, however, he runs right into the arms of the person he secretly wished to be sent to the moon or even further beyond: Daishou Suguru.

“Oh, what a nice occasion to see you here.” Daishou announces, a despicable smile making its way onto his lips. Oikawa feels like vomiting, but still manages to keep his composure.

“I would never come to use the word “nice” and your name in one sentence.” Oikawa says, his words dripping with revulsion.

“Why are you like this?” Daishou wonders, sighing. “I thought we could be friends.”

“Friends?” Oikawa repeats, feeling a disgusted shiver running down his spine. “No. I don’t think that is possible. Not after having seen what you’re capable of.”

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Daishou investigates. Truly, poor souls like Oikawa had never been his type, and could burn for all he cares.

“Oh, there are many things I’d like to say but it’s your luck that the company won’t let me give those words shape.” Oikawa hisses and ads with a dark glare. “You’d probably never fully recover from this shock.”

“And you don’t say them because…?”

“… I refuse to lower myself onto your level.”

“Lower?” Daishou repeats. “You’ve never had any level in first place.”

“Are you referring to yourself?” Oikawa retorts, breath picking up pace.

“Nice touché, I must admit.” Daishou says, lips twitching so slightly it’s barely noticeable.

“Consider the spot well where you’d place your dagger.” The Browne’s eyes gleam curiously. “Because I will.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Daishou asks, lips tugging upwards in a dangerous smirk.

“No, this is not a threat.” Oikawa smile widens. “Just a warning.”

“I see…” Daishou exhales. “Well, I’d say… he who laughs last laughs longest, no?”

“Oh good, I see we agree at least on something.” Oikawa jeers

Daishou snorts, turns and leaves.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

 

_On Friday (same week) Duncan called me, saying he had great things to announce. I had been feeling a little down but Duncan’s overwhelming excitement had me dressed and run down to his office in sheer lighting speed..._

“A musical?” Oikawa repeats, an almost smile flickering over his features.

“Yes, a musical. Oh sole miooooo.” Duncan sings. “Like Moulin Rouge, Chicago, Mamma Mia!, Les Mi-.“

“Yes, yes, yes.” Oikawa waves him off. “I know what a musical is.”

“Great, I feared you wouldn’t.” Duncan laughs. “But that’s not all. It’ll be shoot in New York, meaning… you’re going to New York.”

Now it’s Oikawa’s turn to sing. “New York… concrete jungle where dreams are made of-”

“Exactly there.” Duncan interrupts, nodding. “Obviously, Tanaka and Nishinoya tag along as well as Tsukishima.”

“Oh great… it’ll sure be fun.” Oikawa makes a face.

“And… you’re personal assistant.”

“My personal assistant?”

“Your personal assistant.”

“I don’t have a…

“… personal assistant?” Duncan finishes, smiling ever so bright. “I agree; up until this morning you hadn’t one indeed. But now you have one. You need someone who keeps track of things when you’re away shooting a film.”

“And who…?” Oikawa begins, frowning.

“We thought it’d be to your own good.” The other male chuckles. “Her name is Shimizu Kyioko and you’ll meet her this afternoon, providing you with more information regarding the shot.”

Oikawa blinks. “Wow.”

“Wow.” Duncan nods before he frowns. “Wow?”

“Things are really picking up speed.” Oikawa utters nonchalantly.

“Welcome to JPA.” Duncan declares, taking a file from a large pile of papers beside him and reads aloud. “ _Make me feel like…_ is a musical drama set set in the New York City in the late 70’s,follows the rise dance music through the eyes of European/Asian immigrants.”

“Interesting.” Oikawa says. “How much singing will there be involved?”

“A lot.” Duncan answers. “But you’d be primarily dancing. The film’s producers were impressed by your staggering performance in _Downtown._ They called late night and asked for you to take be part of this film. Oh… and it’s a important supporting role.”

“Important supporting role?” Oikawa yelps, hoping his reddening ears wouldn’t be that visible.

“Yes, a very important supporting role.” Duncan nods, handing him the file. “Read it, take your time and let then Tsukishima know. He will take care of all further business.”

“Important role.” Oikawa whispers, noticing the light tremble in his hands when holding the file. “Important role.”

By the time the clock hits midday, Oikawa’s mood is better than it had been the previous days. Overly excited he re-reads the scripts of _Make me feel like…,_ particularly the role the producers offered him to play.

Yuuya Nishio, 23, born to a Japanese father and Polish mother, follows his dream to become a prestigious dancer in the States. While immigrating he becomes acquainted with a small group of other immigrants with whom he soon befriends. Though everything appears nice at the beginning, life in New York turns out to be rougher than any of them had initially expected, involving everything from betrayal to drug abuse to desperation.

Oikawa hums in excitements, as the sound of someone knocking at the apartment’s front door distracts him.

“Coming.”

He quickly walks over to open the door. Before him stands a beautiful young lady and Oikawa instantly swears that if it was not for the fact he’s gay, he would surely date this woman.

Curtly put, Shimizu Kiyoko has an attractive appearance. Her dark black hair falls just a little below her shoulders while a distinctive mole on the lower left side of her chin is visible, somewhat reminding Oikawa of … Monroe? Dark color sure flatters her skin, and so do the dark glasses she’s wearing.

“Oikawa Tooru?” She speaks softly. Oikawa gulps. He doesn’t understand how Shimizu manages to sound so caring, why her expression is so soft when she looks at him while saying that although they’d never met before.

“That’s correct.” He confirms, nodding. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Shimizu says, a smile caresses her features.

“Please, come in.” Oikawa offers, stepping to the side.

“Thank you.” She enters. “I really look forward to working with you.” Oikawa says, feeling the need to point out this very important fact.

“Likewise.” She chuckles gently. “I have been waiting for so long to-“Another knock tears the word from Shimizu’s lips. But before Oikawa reaches the door, it opens and Tsukishima enters. “Hi.”

“Hello Tsukki.” Oikawa hoots. “Long time no see.”

The tall man looks at him with a confused frown, mouth ajar. “Not long enough though.”

“Mean.” Oikawa hisses under his breath, sticking his tongue out.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and turns towards Shimizu. “Glad you’re here. The sooner we can start, the sooner I can leave.” He walks past Oikawa and heads for the kitchen.

“Are you always like this?” Oikawa follows, pulling an odd grimace.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind.”

“You seem to get along rather well, no?” Shimizu chuckles again, a hand covering her mouth.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else I get along better than Tsukki.” Oikawa deadpans, eyes landing once more on Shimizu. “I know all of his secrets.”

“Can’t say the same.” Tsukishima snorts, putting down his agenda and some other papers.

How can he rile him up like this with just a handful of words, Oikawa wonders. Whipping his head around to tell him off, he finds the blonde already seated across the table, waiting for Oikawa to shut up and sit down quietly.

Their meeting runs for a little over thirty minutes during which they shortly discuss Oikawa’s upcoming project, singing the contract and handing it over to Tsukishima and instructing Shimizu. Her work would range from setting up and confirming interviews over to keeping a close eye on Oikawa’s agenda and any other business in which Tsukishima wouldn’t be involved.

JPA’s actors, Oikawa learns during the meeting, typically have a manager and a personal assistant.  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
 _Akaashi was more than surprised after hearing the news. And so were Iwa-chan and my beloved boyfriend. Why…? (Their surprise somehow flattered me though ^-^)._

_Only three days later, I and the rest of my troupe were heading to the airport to get to New York. The “fellowship of Tooru” were heading out to their adventure._

_But chaos seems to follow me wherever I go with this pack…_

“Morning.” Oikawa yawns.

“Good morning.” Tanaka sings.

“A very _good_ morning.” Nishinoya ads, a wide grin appearing on his face.

Oikawa stops and stares at the two of them. “Are you… ok?”

“We’re simply excited.” Tanaka announces as he looks past Oikawa. He smile dies instantly on his face. He elbows Nishinoya, pointing at somehow behind Oikawa.

Oikawa throws a short glance over his shoulder, expecting none other than Tsukishima and Shimizu to arrive – and the latter is the person that draws the two bodyguard’s attention.

“Who…. In god’s name…” Tanaka stutters.

“… is that??” Nishinoya finishes, voice shaky.

“Shimizu Kiyoko.” Oikawa reveals, when the woman in question comes within hearing. “My personal assistant.”

“Shimizu…”

“…Kiyoko.”

The bodyguard’s mouth fall more than just a little agape. If it could it would perhaps fall completely off its jawbone and splitter on the ground into thousand tiny pieces – pretty much like their heart would if they knew someone like Shimizu was already spoken for someone _else_ other than Tanaka or Nishinoya.

In a trice they step closer, heads flushed in a deep garnet red.

“I have never seen something as beautiful as you are.” Nishinoya begins, taking a deep bowing. “I am Nishinoya Yuu. I may be short but I am strong like a shield.”

“Neither have I, not even in my wildest dreams.” Tanaka admits, mirroring his friend’s action. “I am Tanaka Ryuunosuke. I may be bald but I am sharp like a spear.”

Oikawa coughs.

“I am Tuskishima Kei. I may have the capacity to endure this but I still suffer.” Tsukishima deadpans as he walks past them.

But neither Tanaka nor Nishinoya seem to care, as they proclaim. “Shimizu Kiyoko is the proof of god’s existence.”

Oikawa’s head falls to the side. “How charming…” Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Shimizu chuckling shortly before she speaks: “Well, we’d best be on our way now, no?”

“As you wish!” Nishinoya says. Tanaka nods eagerly. “We guarantee the best protection.”

They turn abruptly, leading the way through the gangway inside the airplane. Oikawa follows rather dumbfounded.

“Aren’t they supposed to protect… me…?” he mutters.

An extended sigh comes past Tsukishima’s lips, whose waiting for him to catch up. “Pathetic.”

 

_The flight was calm, relaxed and I had more than enough time to not only re-read the script but also envision the set and the characters. I had time to let all the words I had on paper to sink in. Though I was a little nervous, it was utter excitement that kept me awake in those five or six hours flight._

_New York._

_Make me feel like…_

_I leaned back and wondered…_

 

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, we’re arriving shortly at John F. Kennedy international airport. We ask you to return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.” Announces the captain, minutes before a jolt runs through the aircraft as the wheels touch the ground. To Oikawa, the landing always feels like he’s on a drop tower at a theme park just a little less extreme.

Once the airplane comes to a full stop, Oikawa and the rest gets off and leaves. It takes another half an hour until everyone has his (or her) suitcase.

They meet a guy named Brad who introduces himself as their driver to their hotel, located down in Manhattan.

During their drive, Tanaka and Nishinoya fall into a lively chat, while Shimizu checks her agenda. Tsukishima, seated in the passenger seat, remains quiet. Oikawa’s quiet, too, but for a whole other reason. Casting his gaze outside, he lets the city overwhelm him.

New York is an iconic place. And there sure is no other city like this one. Sure, each city has that certain “je ne sais quoi”; Paris its Louvre and that famous revolution; London its now-sapped British empirical glory; Istanbul the Straits of Bosporus; Rio de Janeiro its “Cristo Redentor”, perched atop the high peak of Corcovado Peak; Tokyo its shrine’s and cherry blossom; Cape town its Castle of Good Hope, shaped like a pentagon.

After arriving in Manhattan, Oikawa comes to realize that the States – according to the Huffing Post- is, as touted, a nation of immigrants from every continent; and New York is the city where one can find the resultant flowering and burst of extraordinary world fruition.

He follows stunned, catching scraps of conversations in multiple tongues. Perhaps every language in the world is spoken in those few square miles that’s within Oikawa’s earshot. Another proof that the languages alone exemplify the city’s ethnic and cultural madness.

And once more, wittingly or not, Oikawa hums the lines of song that has stuck in his ear ever since waking up this morning…  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

_  
Where to begin now…_

_The days that followed were a mess – but in a positive kind of way. I had a meeting with the producers, did table reading, and met the other actors and so forth. The budget on this film is higher than it had been on “Downtown”; consequently, the expectation are currently running high as well._

_I am tired, time creeping at midnight, but it feels well._

_I feel alive._

_Tomorrow is the first start of principal photography. I can’t wait!^.^  
_ _This will mark a new milestone in my career. A new point to build upon._

 

Oikawa tilts his head to the side. “Me?”

“Yes.” Director Terushima nods. “You.”

“Why me?”

“I am a Japanese director and you’re the only Japanese actor – so why not start with you the principal photography?” Terushima blinks. “Isn’t that something every actor secretly wishes to happen?”

“To be the one who swallows the pill?”

“You make it sound like it’s something serious…” Terushima exhales. “I thought you’d love to.”

“Of course.” Oikawa chuckles. “Of course I want to. But isn’t it up the leading actors to-“

“- swallows the pill?” Terushima finishes, a smirk spreading over his features. “Yes,… and no.”

Oikawa covers his second chuckle with one hand, closing the script with the other. “Well, I guess you have your reasons.”

“Yes – you’re Japanese. And we must stick together.” Upon hearing, Oikawa snorts as he feels that Terushima needed to point out that very important fact.

The Browne’s lips still twitch in the suggestion of a smile. Following Terushima, he steps onto the set that serve as the New York harbor. And his mouth falls immediately agape as he lets his eyes wander around; the set builders had managed to capture the flair of the 70’s perfectly, giving it a degree of believability and hinting at the depth of what the film would be introducing to the audience. A sweeping visualized portrait of the city as seen through the eyes of the immigrants.

The director and his team had taken on the challenge of capturing New York’s enduring spirit, its constantly changing public spectacle, its gossip, amusements, hard-luck stories, and tragedies - all manifested in the mid-70’s.

Oikawa regards Terushima for a moment. He might be weirdo, a freak perhaps, but he sure knows how to do stuff.

“Alright guys.” Terushima announces. “Calm down. It’s Oikawa’s first day on set, let alone the first day of shooting.”

Short applause follows, before Terushima speaks up once more. “For the sake of authenticity, make sure that you guys,” he points at some extras in the background, “to give Oikawa and the rest of the immigrants a hard time to get through. It’s the harbour. It’s the mid-70’s. It’s crowded. Do justice to the reality.”

They nod approvingly.

“Once you’re ready, let us know.” Terushima blinks and disappears behind the cameras.

Oikawa laughs without meaning to, watching the cameras swing into position. He breathes in, feeling his heart picking up pace, blood pulsing hard through his veins.

_Be a star…_

He nods.

One.

Two.

Three seconds pass before…

“Action!”

… the world descends into madness.

He speaks his few lines, makes the few movements he is supposed to do, before the lights above dim into little more… intimacy?

His mind runs wild, but no such emotions are on display when he takes his next step, smoothly following the rhythm of the song that is as soft as a gentle spring breeze, but steadily and confidently growing.

The voices of the background die down, all eyes landing on Oikawa who is now the centre of attention. At last, one guy mirrors his motion, letting himself be guided by the soft flow of. Another woman follows, taking a step forward and circling around Oikawa, their gaze interlocking.

The camera swings quickly to the side as if it was looking for someone else other than Oikawa to focus, but it eventually returns. In the meantime, Oikawa’s wild thought are washed away, his nervousness drowned in the thrill that had taken hold of him. His feet in perfect sync to the beating of his own heart now.

He turns elegantly, his body in tune with the music, and facing another lady. Yet, he’d made sure that there is a sort of harshness to him, like he is someone who shouldn’t be underestimated in whatever he does.

The heat that radiates between the dancers cause slick sweat gliding down their skin. Each dance move has them moving in sync, their ragged, short breaths, makes them breathless. Their bodies almost touch and not infrequently Oikawa can feel the hot breath on his skin, though he towers over most women.

Each dancers clearly states his intentions by moving himself, inviting others to join or to follow along.

And the camera captures it all.

Oikawa breathes, heart hammering against his ribcage. He can’t hide the smile that flickers across his face as he feels the dance coming to its end.

One last rotation and…

“Cut.”

… he remains frozen for another second, before he lets his arms fall.

Whatever the director says, whatever noise the background makes, Oikawa ignores it. All of it.

Nothing can rip him out of this very moment. Not now, when he feels more than alive. It feels as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The weight of the past weeks. Now he feels light, almost fearing that a soft breeze could knock him off his feet.

Oikawa Tooru.

_…the star he is.  
_  

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

_  
Looking back now, the time working on “Make me feel like…” seems now like a blur. Day after day, week after week, we spent shooting, re-shooting, dancing and singing,… it was exhausting, but I felt good. I felt so good doing all these stuff, doing every single shot. I never lost my motivation when Terushima called for another cut. I was so into it that, by the time, the last day came around it literally swept me off my feet._

_We out our backs into it that I felt like crying when Tersuhima called for the last shot. The premiere was scheduled to take place in spring. Post-production included a few pick-up’s because a few changes had to be made; Tershima wanted his film to run smooth and fluid._

_Spring arrived, and I invited both Iwa-chan and Kuroo to attend the premiere (it took place in New York); Iwa-chan made it, but Kuroo couldn’t as he had to hand in a few papers on the exact same day… :’(_

_I was more than happy to see Iwa-chan! I cried sooooo hard and – though he will NEVER admit it – he struggled to keep his own tears at bay._

 

After the premiere, Oikawa and Iwaizumi return to their hotel in Manhatten, drinking perhaps a little too much of wine, waiting for the first reviews to be uploaded online.

“Did you like it?” Oikawa sneers. “Did you? Did you?” He drops his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah, was nice.”

“Was nice?” Oikawa echoes. “I did all I could to make it a great film and all you gotta say is “was nice”?”

“Because it was nice.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“Please don’t overwhelm with all the details next time, yeeah?”

“Promised.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa elbows him.

The other chuckles, as his eyes land on the monotir of his laptop. “Look, the first reviews have been sumbitted.”

“At…” Oikawa’s eyes narrow. “3:02 am.”

Iwaizumi shrugs. “Some people have no life.”

“True.” Oikawa giggles, leaning closer to the monitor.

His mind is fuzzy – the alcohol was to blame – but he still manages to get a grasp of the words, connect them with each other in order to at least get an idea of what the critics are saying.

Many critics praise the up-tempo musical numbers and soundtrack as well as the performances from the main cast and cinematography of the show. There are a few people who feel that the film had toned down its more outlandish and over the top elements (as premised) in favour of a more cohesive and balanced structure.

In spite of the amount of liquor in his system, there is one thing that has him more than just a little “pleased.”

People acknowledge his talent.

“See,” Oikawa hoots triumphantly. “People like me.”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi says. “Odd.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan! Mean!”  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

_  
Good news followed; the film did much better at the box office than “Downtown”, including receiving several award nominations._

_While Akaashi was busy with his own new project, I signed up for some stage &role play lessons in order to “keep myself in good shape” – in a creative kind of way of course. _

_But I had to drop out soon, as I was offered another role – setting in the late 20’s, the film follows a young man who somehow finds himself thrown into the mad world of crime and mafia bosses._

_I will receive the script tomorrow… and I am super nervous!_

Oikawa sighs as he puts his pen aside when his phones buzzes on the nightstand. Unlocking it, a text from Kuroo immediately pops up. 

 

_Crime?... sounds cool, Sherlock^-^  
_ _{March 12 th, 20..; 5:51 p.m.}_

 

A smile makes its way onto Oikawa’s lips, as he texts back: 

_Don’t’cha’ think I’d make a splendid figure as a detective?  
_ _{March 12 th, 20..; 5:53 a.m.}_

 

_Sure – but you’d look even better as a nerd ‘^.-  
_ _{March 12 th, 20..; 5:55 p.m.}_

 

Oikawa’s smile drops.

 

_Asshole  
_ _{March 12 th, 20..; 5:56 a.m.}_

 

_Love you too *chu*  
_ _{March 12th, 20..; 5:56 p.m.}_

 

He can feel himself turning red and quickly pressed a pillow against his face, but his heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. He sometimes hates that Kuroo has such an effect on him. Too much for his liking. He is not used to being teased; it was usually the other way around, especially with Iwaizumi. Even with Akaashi on rare occasions.

But with Kuroo… Kuroo was (and is) different which is why the brown often feels Kuroo has gotten control of him and his emotions.

He glimpses at the cell phone, as he sees Kuroo had sent some more text in the meantime. 

 

_I have also some exciting news to share._  
_My work here is soon done. Meaning: more free time._  
_I thought I could drop by and see how’re doin’ over there, no?  
_ _{March 12th, 20..; 5:59 p.m.}_

_Tooru?  
_ _{March 12th, 20..; 6:01 p.m.}_

 

Oikawa’s eyes widen. Too startled, he sends a “yes?!” at a loss of what to respond. 

He inhales deeply as he reorganizes his racing thoughts before typing out his next text. 

 

_Yes! Please… come! I miss you…  
_ _{March 12 th, 20..; 6:03 a.m.}_

 

_Aww… never thought you’d be that vulnerable *k*  
_ _{March 12th, 20..; 6:05 p.m.}_  

F-you. Just come.  
 _{March 12 th, 20..; 6:06 a.m.}_

 

_OK… then how about once you’re done with shooting? You got some time then?  
_ _{March 12th, 20..; 6:07 p.m.}_

 

_OF! COURSE!  
_ _{March 12 th, 20..; 6:08 a.m.}_

 

_Ok :)  
_ _{March 12th, 20..; 6:08 p.m.}_

 

Oikawa takes another deep breath. A soft sigh involuntarily comes out from him next, as if a heavy object has been lifted from his chest, his body automatically relaxing into the mattress beneath. 

His phones buzzes once again.

 

_Happy to see you again.  
_ _{March 12th, 20..; 6:10 p.m.}_

 

“Me too.” Oikawa murmurs, his words dripping with desire and voice wavering, curling up under his sheets. “Me too.”

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞


	23. The Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have something to ask.” Oikawa murmurs against Kuroo’s lips, a flush creeping up his neck.
> 
> “I’m listening.”

His third role has Oikawa in a neo-noir mystery film. 

Though a supporting role again, his critically acclaimed appearances in both “Downtown” and “Make me feel like…” had not only helped him to rise to a certain degree of fame, but also had people gathering and opening up fan pages and such.

In those, as Oikawa soon learns, people mostly discuss about his dazzling appearance, his charming smile, his talent and his almost graceful ability to let a girl’s heart melt like ice under the heated gaze of the sun. And, of course, how his lips must feel like and what type of person he’d prefer to date and be in a serious relationship with.

During the process of filming, Oikawa has begun to use the time to read the fan letters he receives – and numbers doubled on a weekly bases. Beginning with twenty, it’s soon risen to sixty and crept now past one hundred and ninety.

Oikawa chuckles, as he rereads the same line over and over again: “ _If I ever get pregnant, I will call my boy after you. May he be as sparkling as you are.”_

“There can only be one Oikawa Tooru.” He giggles, putting the letter aside.

“Reading again, hu?” his co-star asks, frowning lightly.

“Jealous?” Oikawa sticks out his tongue.

“Not in the least.” The other snorts before his gaze lands on his phone again.

Meanwhile, Oikawa takes another letter. No signature or hearts or whatsoever the teenage girls are fond of drawing on the outside these days. Just his address (well, JPA’s address actually). Nothing else.

“Mysterious.” Oikawa smiles widens. “I like mysteries.”

He opens the envelope, his heart somewhat picking up pace and unfolds the letter. Eyes land on the signature at the bottom of the letter and Oikawa’s smile dies instantly on his lips.

_Ushijima Wakatoshi_

Oikawa swallows hard when different memories, starring Ushijima Wakatoshi, float back and appear ever so vivid in his mind. Their meeting, Oikawa’s dance leading into something he hardly remembers – luckily – and his attempts to apologize afterwards. And the flowers.

_I like people who are talented. I feel kinda attached to them…_

Those faint words cause a cold shiver to run down his spine. He gulps once more but still begins to read.

_Hello Tooru,_

(“Oikawa for you”, Oikawa snorts.)

_Believe it or not, but I never intended to send you a letter. Especially since I am not the type of guy who sits down to write something other than reviews and the likes._

_But here I am. And I will keep this short._

_I have seen both of your films, Downtown and Make me feel like… and I must say you were good in it. Very good – but I sense you could do even better._

(Oikawa snorts again)

_I advise you to accept film roles that help to realize your true potential. Do not chose the wrong path. Do not let your pride block your way to achieve greater success._

(“No one is guaranteed success.” Oikawa whispers between gritted teeth.)

_Your pride may be your downfall._

Oikawa folds the letter and puts it aside. “Your pride may be your downfall.” He hisses, crossing the arms over his chest and leaning back. “What does he know..?” He tips his head to the side and gazes down at the piece of paper, disbelieving.

Inhaling deeply, he closes his eyes. “ _Talent is something you make bloom. Instinct is something you polish.”_

“Oikawa.” Someone calls. “Ready in 10 minutes, ok?”

The browns eyes flutter open, the corner of his lips tugging upwards. “Sure.” He answers, before his eyes land once more on Ushijima’s letter which lay on top of the others.

“You better not forget my pride. It’s my pride that helped me to come this far.”  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
Oikawa’s third film receives both critical and commercial success and helps him to rise to fame. Fans all around the globe log now into different fan pages, collect pictures, hang on every word that drips from his lips during interviews and gather in sheer unimaginable and growing numbers to at least catch a glimpse of him.

During the films screening, Oikawa’s offered three different roles. Two supporting and his first leading role. After finishing reading all three scripts on a rainy Friday afternoon, he decides to accept the leading and one of the supporting role.

“You’ve been busy.”

Oikawa lifts his head to meet Akaashi’s gaze who walks past him and towards the fridge. Oikawa regards the other for a moment. “You too.”

“Kinda, yeah…” the raven haired male trails off, dark brows furrowing deeply as he looks for another word, perhaps to start a chat. “Where will you be staying over Christmas?”

“It’s November.”

“Soon December.” Akaashi points out.

“So…?”

Akaashi frowns deepens. “You don’t know, right?”

A sigh comes past Oikawa’s lips, hands dropping onto the papers in front of him. “No, I don’t. I never really had the time to plan anything… So I guess I’ll be staying here. You?”

“Gonna see my family. It’s been a while since I last saw them other than on skype.” Akaashi replies, closing the fridge.

“Family, hu…” he casts Akaashi an empty smile. “When will you leave?”

“Two weeks.” Akaashi informs, his words accompanied a soft sigh. “I’ll be away for… three weeks? Yeah, three weeks.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah… but I wanted to take some time off. My next projects starts afterwards.”

“Sounds good.” Oikawa nods approvingly. “Let me know once it’s out.”

“Sure will.” The other says before he hesitates. “You… is it ok for you to stay alone over Christmas?”

Oikawa avoids Akaashi piercing eyes, casting his gaze out of the window. “Ah, no worries.” He speaks, breaking the short silence that had followed. “Kuroo might be coming over to see me… at least, that’s what he said he wanted.”

“I’m sure he will come.”

Oikawa turns his head and tips it to the side and gazes at his flat mate. “Yeah… I think you’re right.”

“Anyway…” Akaashi begins, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m going to grab some food. You want something?”

“Sure…”

“Anything in particular?”

“Not really… surprise me, ok?”

Akaashi laughs. “Sure.”

After the front door closes behind Akaashi, Oikawa remains silently seated in front of his spread out papers for a while longer. He stares at them, trying to empty his mind of any thought, good or bad. And it works—for a while.

Will Kuroo really come to visit? Will he come?  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
_Mattsun: Oikawa… you coming home over Christmas?  
__{November 30 th, 20..; 9:03 p.m.}_

_Makki: perhaps he doesn’t want to see us  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:06 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: Could understand in your case…  
_ _{November 30 th, 20..; 9:07 p.m.}_

 

_Would love to see you guys^-^  
_ _{November 30 th, 20..; 9:07 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: … but?  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:09 p.m.}_

 

_Kuroo might come over to see me…  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:10 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: … might?  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:12 p.m.}_

 

_That was the plan…  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:14 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: Sure he will  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:16 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: You haven’t seen each other for… over a year now?  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:17 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: … and still in love… lovely.  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:19 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: you jealous?  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:21 p.m.}_

 

_Mattsun: … not really, tbh ^^’’  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:22 p.m.}_

 

_Iwa-chan: He will come.  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:22 p.m.}_

 

_YOU SURE??  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:24 p.m.}_

_Iwa-chan! Will he???  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:24 p.m.}_

_Iwa-chan: Yeah… he wanted to surprise you…  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:25 p.m.}_

 

_Makki: hey, don’t spill all the info’s there!  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:26 p.m.}_

 

_Iwa-chan: … but you seem a little down lately…_  
_{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:26 p.m.}_  


 

_Awwww <3 You still can’t stand it when I’m feeling down, don’t’cha?  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:27 p.m.}_

 

_Iwa-chan: Shut it.  
_ _{November 30 th_ _, 20..; 9:28 p.m.}_

  
Oikawa falls back onto the mattress, cell phone pressed against his chest as if it concealed some kind of treasure. In a way, Iwaizumi’s text actually is as precious as a treasure: Kuroo is coming! 

 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
November has gone by with the last shreds of autumn, and December is passing. Time flies ever so quickly. Well… usually.

Oikawa keeps glancing at his phone, eyes flickering across the time as the minutes crept by. Slow. Painfully slow.

The past three weeks have been a blur, consisting of meetings, shootings, interviews and the constant but pleasant feeling that, after 21 month, he would finally see Kuroo Tetsurou again. Ever since Iwaizumi had dropped the news, he felt strangely alive and refreshed as if he’d been sleeping for weeks.

Those news had been like a fuel for him. Up until now.

To say he is nervous would now be a massive understatement. Arriving way too early at the airport, just to make sure he wouldn’t miss his boyfriend, he meanders all over the building, always checking the arrival times on the great board.

There are numerous people. Sometimes, people lightly bump into Oikawa - a multicoloured sea of people pushing past him, spilling into the airport like water from every side and making it sometimes difficult to breathe.

It is uncomfortably warm, and it is noisy. Snatches of conversation batter at the browns ears: one person needs to hurry to meet an appointment on time, whilst another is furious at how much his flight is going to be delayed. Their voices wash over Oikawa, even when he is trying to sit down and remain calm and composed, it still set his teeth on edge.

At least no one pays attention that Oikawa Tooru, the rising star, is in the airport, waiting nervously for his love to arrive.

Oikawa glances once more down at his phone, checking the time. “About ten minutes…” He whispers, shoving the phone down his coat as he gets up again and walks towards the arrival exit.

Time. Something that is all around him, behind him and before him. Clocks signify its progress, measuring it out for Oikawa (and the rest of the world) so that one either laments its passing or encourages it to swiftness. The moment is gone once it's here, and so is the next. And the following alike.

But whether or not moments endure, all Oikawa needs, all he longs for is Kuroo. Time may separate them. Yet when time passes, when each day gives birth to a new moment before it’s gone once more and nothing but a faint memory is left behind; when time measures growth and change, its nonetheless the only force on earth that both separates or connects them.

Upon arriving near the exit of the arrival gate, Oikawa begins to walk in a widespread circle, ignoring the curious glances he earns whenever he passes the same old man, the same young lady, the same couple again and again. And again. He inhales and exhales deeply, forcing himself to calm at least a _little._

Another swift glance at his phone.

Another vigorous circle.

Another deep breath.

Time passes. Every so slowly.

Then…

The sight of his loved one sends his heart pounding wildly in his chest, thrashing against his ribcage.

There he is, in the flesh, alive and breathing, eyes trailed upon his own phone: Kuroo Tetsurou. A shiver runs down his spine, eyes already watering but he tries in vain to keep the threating fountain at bay. He refuses the thought of facing Kuroo with reddish face, overflown and wet with streaks of tears.

Kuroo quickly lifts his gaze, but that’s far enough for them to lock eyes. Sometimes Oikawa forgets how good-looking his boyfriend is. Eyes are always fixed on him, following his refined movements – and judging his odd hairstyle.

But Oikawa, loving every single detail of Kuroo’s outside, is one of the few who had been invited to see Kuroo’s inside as well. To learn more about Kuroo’s likes and dislikes, dreams and fears, goals and achievements.

To Oikawa, Kuroo is like the diamond among the pearls. Because Kuroo was… and is just… he is just _there_ ; being there when Oikawa feels he needs to call someone. He had stepped into his life when everything seemed blurry, when everything seemed to fall apart. He reached into the dark hole Oikawa sometimes fell into and pulled him out of it. And though Kuroo never fit into the drama and the utter sadness and desperation, he’d made Oikawa see the flip side of it in a very different but honest way.

And here he is now.

Something grips at brown’s heart with an aching ferocity. Everyone and everything around the fine-looking mess-hair blurs into distorted hazes in the background, their faces obscuring and their voices dulling into a muted hum whilst Kuroo seems to glow against the lackluster humdrum of everyone else around him, his image burning and renewing itself into Oikawa’s memory. (*)

Kuroo shots him a smile and, god, Oikawa hopes his reddening ears won’t be that visible once he stands right in front of him, suitcase and bag dropping but eyes never leaving his.

They remain quiet for a split second, perhaps both overwhelmed and unable to process the moment or to voice their feelings.

“Hi Tooru.”

Remembering how his name had always sounded when it fell from Kuroo’s lips, Oikawa throws himself into Kuroo’s arms, tears breaking free and pressing him tightly. Later, neither would remember how long they’d been pressed flush against each other, sobbing and completely unable to voice anything other than “Finally…” and “missed you”.

“Hey… Tooru.” Kuroo says gently, hands moving over the others back. “If you keep hugging me this hard I might die due to crushed lungs or lack of air to breath or-“

“Idiot.” Oikawa pouts, only slightly loosening his grip. “I c-could ne-never…”

“Sure.” The other chuckles.

“Mean.”

“Why?”

“You.. laughing.”

Kuroo falls into a fit of giggles. “We finally meet again and all you have to say is “mean”?”

“Because you are.” Oikawa counters, face sill buried into Kuroo’s shoulder.

“ _Not.”_ Kuroo corrects.

“Are.”

“I thought you missed me.” Kuroo teases.

Oikawa leans back, meeting the others golden orbs. “I did… but now, considering the circumstances, I’m not so sure anymore.”

Kuroo’s presses his right hand against his chest, feigning hurt. “How dare you to break a man’s heart just like that.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, but he feels a smile lift his lips. “Let’s go now… or do you wish to stay here where people can ogle you?”

“No really…”

Kuroo shoulders one of his bags, takes the suitcase in one and Oikawa’s hand in the other hand. “Shall we?”

They take a cab, Oikawa providing the driver with address while Kuroo puts his stuff into the boot before joining Oikawa on the back seat. They fall into a comfortable silence at first, Kuroo squeezing Oikawa’s hand and making the brown's heart feel like it was going to vibrate clear of his ribcage.

Once arrived and driver paid, Oikawa leads Kuroo to his shared apartment with Akaashi.

“Akaashi just left this morning to visit his family.” Oikawa informs, unlocking the door. “He’s nice. Hope you’ll meet him once.”

Kuroo hums approvingly, walking past the doorstep. “Nice apartment.” Kuroo states after letting his eyes wander around. “Bigger than mine for sure.”

“But empty when no one’s there to share.”

Kuroo’s lips pull into a frown, eyes landing again on Oikawa. “I’ll make you forget the emptiness.”

Oikawa chuckles. “Oho, learned some magic over the past year?”

“No.” Kuroo takes a step closer. “Only improved on what I already know.”

“That is…?” Oikawa leans in a little closer, their faces only inches apart.

“Something I would never forget.”

Oikawa's blood rushes so hard through his veins he can hear it sloshing through his ear lobes. His heart picks up pace while his hand move towards Kuroo, lightly brushing against the others.

“I hope you wouldn’t.” Oikawa whispers.

Kuroo rotates his hand a little to the left, each of his fingers shifts to fall between Oikawa's, wrapping them around the Browns. Gentle at first.

“You still look as gorgeous as you were in Japan.” Kuroo purrs.

Oikawa blinks, before the faint flustered blush blooms into an embarrassed scarlet that overtakes his face.

“You…” Oikawa stammers, before watching a smile flickering over the mess-haired’s face. Kuroo Tetsurou, that unpredictable mess-haired head, just knows how to get on his nerves, yet making him feel like a pubescent high school girl at the same time.

“I missed you.” Kuroo mumbles against Oikawa’s lips.

“So did I.”

Then their lips press gently together like they are each terrified the other would pull away. But neither does. And neither would, since both have longed for this moment to happen. After being separated and living apart for 21 month.

Oikawa leans in a little more, letting himself sucked in by Kuroo’s touch, kicking all rational thoughts away from his mind. Nothing comes between them nor breaks their comfortable silence. When Kuroo pulls back, Oikawa chases his lips blindly and the taller can’t help but chuckle gently. He presses their foreheads together and smiles, feeling the molten gold of Kuroo’s loving gaze wrap around him and draw him in.

“I agree.” Oikawa says, after sucking in a deep breath. “You really have improved.”

Kuroo snorts. “Was I that bad back then?”

“No, ‘f course not.”

“The implication was there.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, pulling back in for another kiss before adding a mumbled: “love you.”  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
_I felt like a huge weight being lifted off my shoulders when I finally – finally – saw Kuroo again. So many nights I’d laid wide awake, wondering what Kuroo was up to. How his sketches came along. How often he watched my films. Whether or not he liked them._

_If he had ever felt lonely… because I sure had been feeling lonely more often than I’d like to admit. Without his touch. His warmth. His comforting words, even his shit-eating grin he pulls off so brilliantly as if he’d actually worked on it. I’d been feeling lonely because I missed all of this. It continuously existed, but it felt like a faint memory. One that slowly but surely lost its energy._

_But he’s with me. Again! And I think I hardly ever slept so well like I did last night when Kuroo lay beside me (of course and unbeknownst to him, I had to cuddle a little and snuggle into his touch)._

_I’m ready for Christmas now. ^-^_

Oikawa yawns, eyes flutter open.

“Good morning.”

“hm mornin’”. He mutters into Kuroo’s side, eyes squeezing shut once more.

“Hi there, I can’t remember you being so cuddly.” Kuroo chuckles, fingers running gently through Oikawa’s.

“Exception.” The other mumbles, eyes still closed.

Kuroo snorts. “Not sure whether I should believe you.”

“You better do.”

“Or…?”

“You’ll see.”

“Oho.” Kuroo graces his jawline with soft fingers. “Sounds promising.”

Oikawa chuckles, subsequently opening his eyes and lifting his gaze to Kuroo. “Needy as always.”

“Needy?” Kuroo repeats, shifting slightly but manages to keep the other’s gaze. “Dunno’ what you’re talking about.”

“You do.” Oikawa’s lips quirk upwards, just the hint of a smile.

Kuroo huffs, eyes rolling in a rather dramatic fashion and drawing another fit of giggles from his boyfriend. He takes his eyes off Kuroo for a split second to look at the clock on the nightstand, when he says the mess-haired’s name, smiling around the syllables. “Tetsurou…”

“Yes, Tooru?” the other sings.

Oikawa sits up, glancing down at him. Having Kuroo look up at him makes his stomach twist in a particular way.

“What do you wanna do?”

“When?”

“Today.” Oikawa deadpans.”

“Any suggestions?” Kuroo asks, his trademark grin plastering his face.

“I could show you the city.” Oikawa proposes, head tilting to the side and gaze casting out of the window. “It looks not too cold.”

“But it might feel cold.” Kuroo whines.

“You won’t get cold feet.”

“But if I do…?”

“Then –“

“You’ll warm them?” Kuroo chips in.

“No.” Oikawa says, gesturing towards the bathroom. “A shower will do it.”

“Including you?”

“ _EX-_ cluding me.” The brown corrects.

"You’re no fun.” Kuroo proclaims, eyes blown wide momentarily.

“You’re just _too_ needy.” Oikawa counters.

“Maybe… but that’s only because of you.” Taking Oikawa’s hands, Kuroo begins to pepper with soft kisses before lifting his gaze to look at Oikawa in the most innocent way he’s able to muster. Oikawa can feel himself turning red and quickly looks away, but oh well, his heartbeat wouldn’t slow down.

“We’ll see, ok?”

Kuroo grin widens. “Ok.”

Oikawa can’t help but to think this cunning mess-hair had planned this all along yet he has no reason to be mad or so. Thus, after a little more kissing and exchanging some more cheeky words, they get up at last and prepare themselves for their first day together.

  

_Oh lord, bless this day. It’s been a while since I felt so refreshed and… great? I always feel great while being on set (only occasionally bored^^), but this was another level of feeling great._

_After spending an almost outrageous amount of time in the company’s cafeteria (too lazy to prepare something ourselves), I showed Tetsu “my” city, called home… though it sometimes doesn’t feel like “home” since I’m always on set or in another city…_

_Still, I proved to be a good guide ^-^ The only thing: we had to make sure to walk around like friends rather than a couple. JPA (or whoever else) wants to market me as “single” since this would draw a bigger interest and attention from my female fans. While I get their intention, in my opinion it’s just another way to make more money. Absurd, but I agree on it for the time being._

_As if they stood a chance against Kuroo though – LOL^^ He is not perfect, by all means… but perfect for me ^-^_

_The first three days we practically strolled around the city like some homeless (but fine-looking) dudes… though, if we had to consider Kuroo’s hair, he could EASILY pass as a man from the street. At night, we returned to my apartment in attempt to cook… though it usually ended up in having Kuroo to cook for me while I either studied my scripts or absorbed each of Kuroo’s sketchbooks._

“So?” Oikawa begins, settling himself more comfortably into the couch next to Kuroo. “How do you like the city?”

“It’s nice.” Kuroo responds. “Different of course.”

“Sure.” Oikawa nods approvingly. “But as long as you’re enjoying it, I’m more than happy.”

“Enjoying… what?”

Oikawa shots him a glare. “Enjoy spending time with me?”

“Ah, well.” Kuroo says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Isn’t “enjoy” a little _too_ exaggerated?”

Oikawa sits up: “I beg your pardon?”

“Like, you know, I’ve gotten used to it. Like the summer heat in Japan or the coffee from Starbucks.”

Oikawa shoves his elbows into Kuroo’s side and turns his gaze away. “Mean. You’re such an asshole.”

“I know.”

“How can I even date you?” Oikawa whips his head around to tell him off, only to find Kuroo biting his lip - obviously holding back laughter. Oikawa deflates at once, disarmed by how bloody charming he looks. A sigh creeps past Oikawa’s lips.

How could he rile him up like this with just a handful of words? 

He feels Kuroo snuggling closer, hands ghosting over Oikawa’s fingers. “You mad?” He teases. 

“No.” He says, letting himself fall against Kuroo’s chest.

“Ah…” Kuroo exhales sharply. “That hurt.”

“Well deserved.” Oikawa answers.

“Mean.” Kuroo voices, giving birth to his best impersonation of Oikawa.

“Not bad.”

“Right?” Kuroo sneers. “But move now… I need to get something off my chest.”

“Interesting thought.” Oikawa purrs. “It is your shirt? Please say it is your shirt.”

“What if it was?” Kuroo whispers low, hot breath trickling across Oikawa’s ear. A flush creeps up his neck, but he remains leaned against Kuroo’s torso.

“I would like it.”

Kuroo then burst into a fit of laughter. “Do tell me, who’s needy? You or me?”

“Please.” The brown huffs. “I’m not you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, you-“ Oikawa begins, but the words are torn from his mouth when Kuroo pushes him off the couch, tripping over once more at the momentum of Kuroo’s next shove with his feet.

“The fuck?” Oikawa eyes him furiously.

“Ops.” The mess-haired exclaims, followed by a stream of laughter.

“No, not _ops.”_ Oikawa stands, brows knotting together. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” Kuroo echoes, the corner of his lips rising a little.

“Shoving me off the couch?”

“Can’t be.” Kuroo says, lifting his arm, flexing it only lightly. “See that? No muscle there alas no strength.”

“Sure.”

“Must’ve been the wind.” Kuroo says, clearly amused as he leans back.

“The wind.” Oikawa deadpans.

A normal exchange by their standards: they continue to bicker for a little while long before Oikawa lets himself fall once more onto the couch, checking his cell phone as he catches Kuroo moving forward to grab his sketchbook.

“How often do you flip through your own sketches?” Oikawa asks.

A short sigh pushes its way past Kuroo’s lips. “Depends.”

“Means?”

Kuroo closes the book. “Depends on my mood.”

“Very clear.” Oikawa lets out a slightly annoyed huff before he pulls the collar of Kuroo’s shirt, bringing them closer together. “How’s your mood now?”

“Has hardly been better.” Kuroo utters before pressing his lips to Oikawa’s. “I have something to ask.” Oikawa murmurs against Kuroo’s lips, a flush creeping up his neck.

“I’m listening.”

“I… well…” Oikawa pulls back, not too far though whilst his heart picks up pace, hammering against his rib cage. God, he wishes it wouldn’t make such a noise.

Oikawa’s gaze fell to Kuroo’s collarbones which are partly visible beneath the collar of his V-neck. He begins to trail a finger over the small bumps, wondering when he’s grown so nervous.

“I…” he takes in another shaky breath. “Could you draw me?”

Kuroo shit-earing grin fades; in its place, a fond smile caresses his features, as he traces Oikawa’s skin with his thumb, marveling at the ease of the touch. “Sure.”

“But… uhm…”

“Yes?”

“Could you draw me… like… you see me?” Oikawa takes Kuroo’s hand tentatively, slowly weaving their fingers together. “Like… only _you_ see me?” he says with a lilt of implication.

Kuroo blinks once, twice… before he snickers. “What are we…? Jack and Rose?”

Oikawa nervousness falls in an instant, his tense smile being wiped off his face in lightning speed. Yet he wouldn’t be Oikawa Tooru if he wasn’t able to catch himself in the blink of an eye. He sprawls himself on the couch a little more, head tipping to the side and eyes fluttering: “Draw me like one of your French girls, will you?” He purrs.

“Shut up, Rose.” Kuroo snorts.

“Mean.” Oikawa lets out a light laugh before his face softens again, eyes falling on Kuroo. Oikawa leans closer once more, close enough to press a small kiss on Kuroo’s nose. “Will you?”

Another almost-smile flickers across his face, before Kuroo says: “I will.”

The corner of Oikawa’s lips tug upwards.

“But not here.” Kuroo suggests, eyes quickly wandering in the direction of Oikawa’s bedroom.

“Alright.” Oikawa nods. “Better place.”

“Do you need some time?”

“Time for what?” Oikawa investigates, swallowing against the bubbling nervousness.

“Maybe you need to prepare something… or yourself?”

Oikawa hums lightly. “Uhm… yes. Five minutes.” 

“Cool.” Kuroo says. „I need to collect my stuff anyway.”

Oikawa nods, getting off the coach and making sure to no walk too swift into his bedroom as it would most likely look like an escape. And it sure is no escape.

Upon entering, Oikawa inhales deeply, eyes scanning his room before his gaze lands on his bed. With butterflies in his stomach and his head buzzing with possibilities, he slowly begins to undress himself.

“French girls.” He mutters, a nervous giggle escaping his throat before tossing his shirt and pants aside. His eyes fall downwards. “Underwear…?” He feels a flush colouring his face, slightly shivering. He doesn't want to chew on his nails or lips, so he finds himself gnawing on the inside of my cheek. “Is it… _too_ much?” A cold sweat has in the meantime broken out between his shoulder blades.

“You good?” Kuroo voice carries through the apartment.

“Y-yeah.” Oikawa says airily, stripping off his underwear before muttering. “ _Too_ much.”

“No, wouldn’t say so.” Kuroo whispers, hot breath caressing his neck and ear. Oikawa practically jumps in utter shock, his breathing and heartbeat beginning to speed and fill his ears with white noise. Kuroo remains quiet, gaze flickering over Oikawa’s entire frame before a fond smile appears on his face.

Oikawa, against his initial plan, bits his lip, eyes dancing to every corner, avoiding Kuroo gaze. “I-“

“Nervous?”

“No…”

“Sure.” Kuroo’s smile widens a little.

“Ok… yes.” Oikawa huffs embarrassed.

“No need to. If you feel uncomfortable we ca-“

“No.” Oikawa cuts him off, eyes blown wide. “No. I’ve always wanted to do… this. It’s just… I don’t know…” He waves a nervous hand. “It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked or so… but…”

“It’s ok.” Kuroo reassures. “It’s different, I know.”

They lock eyes before Oikawa blurts out. “How can you be so relaxed?”

“Well… you make me feel relaxed.” Kuroo winks.

They fall silent for another second or two.

“Well… I don’t mind standing naked before you but, you know.” Oikawa makes a face, breaking the silence just a heartbeat away from feeling awkward. “I don’t think that’ll look nice.”

“Then we better do something.” Kuroo bits on his lower lip to stifle a laugh, before walking past his boyfriend. “Lie onto the bed.” He orders, putting his utensils onto the nearest chair.

Oikawa does as said and lies down, facing Kuroo.

“Lie on your stomach.” Kuroo instructs, sitting on the right side of the mattress. “But not completely… a little more on your left side so that your right side is a little lif- yeah, exactly.”

“Aye Sir.” Oikawa snickers but continues to follow Kuroo’s orders.

“Spread your legs a little…yeah, pu-pull your right leg a little more towards you… perfect.” Kuroo says, leaning over to grab the blanket before letting it delicately fall over Oikawa’s bottom, covering most of his left leg while leaving the right mostly free. The light blanket would only serve as hint that Oikawa is in fact naked underneath.

Kuroo now lightly hoovers over Oikawa, brows knotted in concentration. “Your left arm below your head… face the window.” He mutters. “Stretch your right arm… as if you were reaching for the window… yeah, yeah… that looks good.”

“Why are you so serious?” Oikawa mumbles, eyes flickering upwards to meet Kuroo’s focused gaze.

“Am I?”

“A bit.”

Kuroo snorts, his eyes rolling in their sockets. “Comfortable?”

“Yes… it’s fine.”

“Good…” Kuroo gets up. “I’ll dim the light a little.”

“Sounds… _nice_.” Oikawa purrs.

“No erotic fantasies, please.” Kuroo rebukes while dimming the light. He shots a quick glance. Oikawa’s exposed skin is now being kissed by the soft light while a gentle ray of moon light casts its way into the room, tinting it in a wisp of silver.

“Isn’t it too dark?” Oikawa wonders when Kuroo takes his place on the chair, facing now Oikawa. “Rest assured, I know what I’m doing.” Taking the sketchbook, he opens it while leaning back into the chair.

“Head a little down… good.” He says, taking a pencil. “Eyes to the window… keep them on the window.”

“Not on you..?” Oikawa teases.

“We’re not making another Titanic, are we?” Kuroo counters, before coughing. “Now… relax.”

Oikawa takes in another deep breath before he mumbles. “Ok.” 

Kuroo sends a short smile his way, before he whispers, presumably more to himself as he, too, appears a little nervous. “Right.”

It is then as if the pencil started moving on its own, gliding across the page, beginning to recreate the scene before him.

Within seconds, Oikawa can see how Kuroo Tetsurou begins to sparkle. Brighter and cleaner than the purest diamond on earth. He has long learned that whenever his boyfriends draws, he enters a whole different world, with only his pencil, blank canvas and subject existing. Nothing else.

Oikawa feels a soft smile making its way onto his lips but he is quick to school his features as best he can, ignoring the redness of his cheeks and trying to remain as calm and relaxed as possible.

A mere handful of minutes might have passed at best, but in that duration Oikawa felt his thoughts going blurry before they faded and disappeared, leaving him to fully enjoy this moment. All he does, besides breathing and watching Kuroo, is collecting every detail of this very moment, carefully putting it away in his head.

Perhaps this might be the only time... Perhaps he might never experience this again. 

Therefore, he wants to remember everything. Every move Kuroo’s hand does. Every breath he takes. He wants this memory as intact as possible, in his most private secrets.

And the longer Oikawa finds himself watching, the more he notices a certain dexterity to Kuroo’s movements; a strangely graceful cadence that Oikawa can’t imagine himself having – unless it’s acting or dancing. It lingers somewhere between being a well-practiced habit and second nature, and Oikawa finds himself appreciating the slight flex of muscles of Kuroo’s arms.

Kuroo’s eyes flicker to Oikawa’s as he looks up, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Oikawa replies instantly.

Kuroo looks down at his drawing, feeling a pleasant shiver running down his spine. His naked frame conveys a sense of vulnerability, an honesty which juxtaposed the handsome yet unreachable star Oikawa is in public.

His eyes linger over one particular part of the picture more than he should have, as much as he would hate to admit to anyone else other than Oikawa that he enjoyed drawing and capturing the scene before him; drawing his graceful body is nothing but a joy and the soft expression he wears is great to recapture. The man, while somewhat being kissed by the moon light, is just generally great to draw.

“Now now… is there a blush?” Oikawa says from somewhere within reality, witnessing Kuroo’s conscience instantly jumping back to it.

Kuroo snorts, refusing to grace the tease with an answer.

Oikawa is not one to be fooled easily and if Kuroo isn’t totally invested in his drawings he probably would've cringed at his own internal dialog he must be having. A dialog that has his face reddening a little.

Not that it does not suit him. He is very good looking and Oikawa always reminds him that red somehow suits him, compliments him even.

Kuroo sighs and glances down at his sketchbook: The most difficult part are Oikawa’s eyes – they’ve always been very expressive, emotions lingering just beyond the untouchable glass. And thus far he isn’t exactly satisfied. He picks up another pencil and starts to structure the eyes, looking up every once a while to get reference of the man’s face and eyes.

The drawing goes smoothly and Oikawa, while still trying to absorb every passing moment, he feels his consciousness ebbing away before all of his thoughts end…  
 

∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞

   
When he wakes, he sees Kuroo sitting beside him, eyes trailed upon the opened page of his sketchbook.

“Mhm…” Oikawa shifts, slightly lifting himself up. “How long have I been sleeping?”

Kuroo turns and winks, chuckling as his usual sly smirk crosses his face and his cat like eyes glint mischievously. “An hour or so? But it was perfect…”

“Why?” Oikawa yawns.

“Because you looked so peaceful. It really helped me to finish the drawing.”

Oikawa blinks twice before he feels his face flushing, adrenaline pumping through his body when he sits up. “Finished?”

“Yep.” Nodding, Kuroo hands him the sketchbook.

With shaky hands he takes it, eyes landing on the drawing. His mouth falls agape as a warm feeling takes hold of him. Though trying, Oikawa can’t think of a word that would describe what he sees. It’s simply _perfect_. Almost too perfect to be real.

But it is real.

“So?” Kuroo says after a long moment of silence.

Oikawa lifts his head. A matching set of tears roll from underneath his long lashes, covering his cheeks in fresh tear tracks. And he sees that it fills Kuroo’s heart with ache, but it’s the bittersweet kind, because this is Oikawa appreciation.

“Thank you.” His voice sounds muffled as if a hand is being pressed against his mouth.

He does not have time to say anything else, just enough to smile before Kuroo leans in and their lips brushed, then pressed in for a firmer kiss with a quiet hum. Oikawa smiles and leans back enough so they can look each other in the eye, his sparkling with warmth while Oikawa’s cheeks are still wet.

“I dare say you like it?” Kuroo asks.

“Hu?” Oikawa snickers, “How dare you?”

Kuroo laughs. “Then give it back.”

“No.” Oikawa lifts his left hand, holding the paper above him. “Never.”

“See.” A giggle bubbles out as Oikawa’s hand slid back, his spare arm around Kuroo’s neck, his hand somewhere in the air behind him as Oikawa angled their faces and pressed another soft kiss to his lips. “You’re truly amazing,” he breaths against Kuroo’s mouth, “in so many ways.”

Kuroo snorts, but he doesn’t argue at that, not with the kisses Oikawa peppers over his face until they both remember that Oikawa is still holding the sketchbook.

“Will the great artist sign this masterpiece?” Oikawa blinks, lowering his arm.

“Of course.” Kuroo leans back to grab another pencil when Oikawa hands him the sketchbook. “Do you want me to write anything else?”

“Hum…” Oikawa taps his chin. “How about…” He leans in, whispering something in Kuroo’s ear. The mess-haired then bursts into a fit of laughter. “So needy.”

“No?” Oikawa scoffs, watching Kuroo sign his work, adding date and place just beneath his signature.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Oikawa steals a quick kiss before getting up, one of the blankets wrapped around him.

“You know… you don’t have to-“ Kuroo begins, when Oikawa interrupts. “Who’s needy?”

“I just appreciate the sight.” Kuroo defends himself, clearly amused.

“You just did so… for how long actually?”

“Who knows?” He shrugs.

“Too long, I’d say.”

“Like you wouldn’t like it…” Kuroo teases.

“What if I don’t?”

Kuroo looks at his boyfriend who’s approaching the bed once more, his facial expression less than impressed but the corner of his eyes are tweaked up in amusement. “Bad luck?”

“You bet…” Oikawa shakes his head. “Anyway… food?”

“And something to drink.”

“Sure, my lord, as you wish.” Oikawa deadpans. “How about you get up yourself and get something?”

“Thank you.” Kuroo just blows a kiss at him. “I’m done for the day.”

“Someone’s getting old…” Oikawa shots, tongue sticking out when he leaves the room.

“Don’t forget the drinks.” Kuroo adds, in a voice that indicates that he’s enjoying the opportunity to boss Oikawa around.

“Yeah yeah, _grandpa_.”

“Respect the old.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I have my own ways to show respect.” Oikawa voice wafts throughout the apartment.

“You sure do.” Flipping on the TV, Kuroo strips out of his own clothes, tossing them aside and nestling himself under the blankets.

Minutes later, Oikawa returns with enough food and drinks to satisfy their needs. “Give me some space.” Oikawa demands, putting the plates onto the bed while the drinks are placed on the nightstand on either side of the bed.

“You got plenty of it.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “Sure… you pretty much own the entire right side… the food covers half of the left-“ 

“I couldn’t imagine a better place than on the left side of the food.” Kuroo quickly chips in.

“Move.” Oikawa hisses, before he fishes the remote out of Kuroo’s hand. “and it’s my turn to decide.”

“It… is.”

They fall into comfortable silence, only the quiet rustling of their blankets, the clacking of their plates and the rapid changing channels overhead breaking it.

“Oh look,” Oikawa yelps, “Titanic!”

“Really?” Kuroo makes a face. “Are we really-“

“Yes!”

“Bu-“

“I said, yes.” Oikawa shots him a quick glance. “My words is my bond.”

An extended sigh pushes past Kuroo’s lips, pulling his lips into a defeated frown. “Chill, _Rose_ , chill. Or else you miss the French girl’s armpit hair.”

Startled, Oikawa answers a “The fuck..?” at a loss of what to respond, before snuggling himself under the blanket into Kuroo’s warm touch.

“You’re weird.” He then mumbles.

“I take that as a compliment.” Kuroo says, voice low, before adding. “You know, my weirdness led me to you.”

Oikawa snorts, but he is not quick enough to hide the smile tugging his lips into a fond smile.

After the hauntingly beautiful scenes of Titanic’s wreck, Kuroo shifts a little, whispering, “Wake me up when the ship hits the berg.”

“Sadist.” Oikawa hisses.

After another forty minutes or so, Kuroo's golden eyes open and close from the light of the TV and Oikawa sort of smiles. He stares at him in confusion, blinking, his eyelashes brushing against my cheek.

"Nothing." Oikawa tries to hide his smile as best as he could.

Kuroo rolls his eyes and nuzzles into my shoulder, his dark messy hair inches from his nose. Oikawa smells his much defined Kuroolike smell, which is too good for words. After a few agonizing minutes, he felt his boyfriend go limp and Oikawa can’t help but to smile huge and big, cradling him to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*I wish I could credit this paragraph… But I just can’t seem find the source anymore. Yet, I loved it so much (which was why I saved it) that I just had to find a way to have it in the story. Nonetheless, I changed it slightly so that it’d fit the story)

**Author's Note:**

> Hollywood Tonight Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcEEhVenRiQ&list=PLT9iC9HPhr7JtTPjuSVaxDnimImSne6Y-


End file.
